When the Levee Breaks
by LaueHime
Summary: Tag to 7x03. First it was that damn Leviathan that took his head for a piñata and now it's Amy who's bashed his skull against the tree. Sam's not sure how much more his head can take until Dean punches him for stealing the Impala. And that was the straw that broke the camel's back... or in this case, his head. Limp!Hurt!Sam, Guilty!Bro!Dean
1. Prologue

**A/N: Yes another SPN story from me! Can't help it if I get too many ideas! Well this one came from watching season 7 and thinking that I was angry with the show for having such an awesome ending in 7x02 and then skipping to three weeks later in 7x03. So I decided to fill in the blanks a little… give you a little shot of head injured Sam. This could turn into a full-length story if you guys want it to. **

**Summary: Tag to 7x03. First it was that damn Leviathan that took his head for a piñata and now it's Amy who's bashed his skull against the tree. Sam's not sure how much more his head can take until Dean punches him for stealing the Impala. And that was the straw that broke the camel's back... or in this case, his head. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything supernatural related but I'm having fun with the characters!**

**SPN**

As soon as he spotted the missing Impala, Dean was pissed. Sam had gone out, God knows where, and he hadn't bothered to tell his brother where he was going. It's not that Dean really wanted to know. His brother was an _over_grown man after all. If it had been any other time, he would have just shrugged it off, especially in his position.

With his casted leg, there was no way he was going to go anywhere. Blame the SOB of a Leviathan for that. The monster had broken more than his leg. If only it had been just his leg too. Dean was used to physical wounds, really. What he would not forgive was how Edgar had broken his brother's head. Not only did he do it physically, but Dean was starting to suspect that the blow hadn't only caused his brother a lame-ass concussion.

His little brother was weakened because of Castiel breaking down the Great Wall of Sam. The past three weeks had been hell for his little brother – _literally. _Dean could see the pain written all across Sam's face, even when his brother was sleeping – which he did a lot after getting his gourd cracked up. Sam blamed it on headaches but Dean knew him too well to humor him on such excuses.

He could see the vacant look Sam's eyes would get when he thought no one was watching. He could see the way his brother pressed at his palm vigorously and how the mental torture in his eyes would decrease from the assault of physical pain. Dean thought back to the warehouse and to the conversation he had with his delusional brother. Sam almost couldn't tell the difference between reality and the hell Lucifer put him through.

But as Sam put it, quoting the devil himself, "you can't torture someone who's got nothing left for you to take away". Knowing that, Dean could only start to guess what his brother was going through and what his hallucinated co-pilot was making him see. That's why he was so anxious now. With Sam's recent injury right after his wall breaking down and with Lucifer riding shotgun, nothing good could come out of this.

And on top of it all, Sam had taken _his_ car. He had taken off, leaving only a note saying he'd be back in a few days. And he'd stolen the Impala! Dean was _so_ going to kill him for that. He was just done fixing his baby, now wasn't the time to wreck her again.

Dean's mind was spinning at a hundred miles an hour and one more soap opera couldn't keep him from racking his brain with images of everything that could go wrong. He wouldn't wait for Sam to get home and chant excuses to him. Dean was going to go out and kick the hell out of his brother by himself. Injury or no injury, Sam was going down.

Dean's mind flashed back to the warehouse episode. His brother's panic is one thing he never wanted to see again. Then where the _fuck_ was Sam?! What if this was another trick from the devil?

Dean couldn't take it. Against Bobby's advice to wait for a few days, he ripped his cast off and stormed after his brother's tracks. It's not like he didn't know the kid's habits anyway. He'd find him in no time.

And he did.

Sam was hunting a Kitsune. Dean was pissed at his brother for going on a case without him. Without even telling him. Was there something his brother wasn't telling him?

Either way, he'd wait patiently for Sam to come back to his motel room and then he'd punch the answers out of him. They were supposed to be a team. Dean didn't like his brother to work on his own, especially not with _his _car.

**SPN **

His head was pounding with every heartbeat and he felt more tired than he'd ever been. As his senses slowly acknowledged his surroundings, he realized how cold he was. He also started to wonder why he was lying on the ground. The soil was unequal and poking branches registered through the haze in his mind. That's how he came to think that he was in a forest.

The damp air and the fine rain also testified to his current location. He just couldn't remember how he'd gotten there in the first place. His instinct kicked in as he reached for the palm of his hand where an all too fresh scar stood darkly against his pale skin. He hissed at the firing pain that ran up his arm when he pushed against the scarred skin.

Sam opened his eyes sluggishly and blinked several times before his vision adjusted. He was indeed lying in the mud and his head was killing him. He realized something had fallen from his limp hands and reached out to the folded paper. That's when his memory rushed back into his brain, leaving him a shivering leaf.

He'd been chasing a Kitsune, whom turned out to be the very first woman he'd ever kissed. His heart clenched as he thought about Amy, about what she was and about what he was supposed to do now. Discarding her wasn't the first idea that came to his mind but people had died. He couldn't accept that.

The night sky was pitch black. He assumed it could only be late but he had no way of knowing how long he'd been out and really, he was having such a hard time focusing that he didn't even care.

God, did Amy have to bash his head so harshly against the trunk of the tree? And what was it monsters had with his head, anyway? Always going for it… Although even angels were on his case, as he recalled. Spinning head or not, there was no way he could forget about Castiel breaking his wall and letting all hell break loose in his noggins.

Sam mustered his remaining strength to pull himself up of the ground. The little action left him panting and his fingers dug painfully into the trunk of the tree he was heavily leaning onto. He had to go after Amy no matter what current state he was in. He looked at the receipt again and he knew he had to find this Amy Pond and get rid of her.

Sam sighed and brushed shaky fingers across his forehead, pulling back on his _too-_long bangs. He winced as his breath caught in his throat when he accidently put pressure on the right side of his head. She'd knocked him hard, indeed. He still hadn't fully recovered from the Leviathan who'd taken his head for a golf ball.

He pushed his pain aside and managed to get Amy's address. He had gotten good at this through the years. Finding her was easy. Killing her was something else.

Sam was ready to do it. But when Amy opened the bedroom door and Sam saw her son, his will died down. The girl pleaded him, telling him she was done killing for good. Sam was struck. He didn't know what to do anymore. And the Blonde had to bring back memories of the time they met. How they kissed. When she brought up that Sam owed him, that he should let her go, he knew this was over.

So he let her go.

The sole idea of driving back to the motel was excruciating. Sam tried to rub the pain away but it only beat louder in time with his rapid heartbeat. He tried to focus on the road but the street was like a giant snake twisting and turning in front of him. At that moment, he wanted to hurl.

He rolled down his window to try to take in some much needed air. His chest felt tight. The music in the background was grating on his nerves and he pushed the tape out aggressively. Then only did he realize how sweaty his palms were. He pressed his hands against his jeans, trying the rub the sweat away.

He looked up in time to avoid a collision with the rail guarding the side of the road. His heart picked up a dangerous race and pounded against his ribcage even after he regained control of the vehicle. He blinked several times to try to make himself more alert and shake his fear away.

He had to get back to the motel. He wouldn't remain unscathed much longer if he didn't.

The familiar motel sign brought comfort into his chest. He could finally sleep it off and drive back to Rufus' cabin in the morning where he would probably find a really pissed off brother. At that moment he didn't care, though. He really only wanted to crash and sleep.

After parking the car, Sam limped his way to the motel room, his lanky limbs dangling awkwardly. He hardly had time to turn and face the door in order to make sure he'd gotten the right one before he felt his breath knocked out of him as something hard connected with the side of his face. He fell back in shock and his head exploded in white hot agony when it crashed against the cold concrete. A dark veil clouded his vision and soon enough, he couldn't understand anything anymore.

He was in so much pain but it didn't make sense. His brain didn't even register the loud curses as his brother's voice exploded from the open doorway. When had Dean gotten there anyway? And Sam's heart picked up.

Was it Lucifer again?

But the idea died away as he sluggishly lost every sense of clear thinking.

**SPN**

Dean was bouncing off the walls now. He'd been waiting in Sam's room for his brother to return and he still had no news of him whatsoever. On top of that, Sam wouldn't answer his damn phone. He'd turned it off when he left and Dean was so going to kill him for that.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the familiar rumble of the Impala's engine. So Sam was alright after all. He was back but he still hadn't turned his phone on _and _he'd stolen the freaking car! Dean saw red. Sam was going to get a good taste of his anger.

Dean flung the door open only to see Sam walking towards the door with eyes he knew so well. His brother's body was there but his head was somewhere else. His own mind blacked out and his hand shot into action, leaving his side and ripping through the air. His clenched fist connected with the side of Sam's face and sent him to the ground.

Dean inwardly flinched at the sound his brother's head made when it hit the ground. But he pushed it aside, blinded by his anger and deafened by the sound of his own ragged breathing.

"Howdy, Sam" he greeted, a hint of haste and disappointment in his tone.

Sam grunted and clutched at his head. Pain was all over his face.

Dean turned his back on him, expecting his brother to pick himself up and follow him inside. Sam took longer than expected to stand upon shaky legs. For an instant he thought his knees would buckle but he managed to hold himself up by grabbing the walls around him.

He limped his way inside and closed the door behind him. Dean was still turning his back and Sam didn't even understand how his brother could be there. He didn't even have his cast on anymore. Nothing made sense and his head was quickly spinning.

He heard Dean talking in the distance but he was too caught up with keeping his own footing.

"New rule! You steal my baby, you get punched!" Dean shouted. He was furious but still not looking at his brother. If he had, he would've seen the way Sam clutched at his head. He would've seen the panic in his brother's eyes. But he wasn't looking.

"What the hell were you thinking, Sam?" he asked and finally turned. His words caught in his throat in time with his breath.

Sam was falling to his knees, agony stretching his features.

"Sam?!" His voice was filled with concern now. Sam was down and curled onto himself, resting his head on the carpeted floor. Dean rushed to his side in seconds, kneeling down next to his brother. He grabbed his shoulders and tried to get Sam's eyes to turn towards him.

"Sam? What's wrong?"

Sam finally looked up. Dean's heart clenched when he saw the panic in his brother's face. The kid was panting.

"D…m'arm" he slurred. Dean frowned with worry regarding the speech pattern but it was nothing compared to the sight he got when he turned to Sam's arm.

It was twitching slightly. Dean's eyes snapped open. "Shit!" he blurted out.

He gripped Sam's shoulders tighter.

"Okay, Sammy, hold on. Let's get you down slowly" he proposed.

Sam nodded, his eyes pleading his brother for help. It broke Dean's heart. What had he done? Sam was just recovering from a traumatic head injury and he went out and punched him. What an amazing brother that made him!

"D'n" Sam breathed. His eyes were wide from fear. The shaking had gone up to his shoulders and other arm. As soon as Dean laid his brother down, Sam's legs started twitching two. Dean's heart raced. His little brother was convulsing.

And the worst part was that Sam was awake through all of it.

Dean held him tightly, waiting for the twitching to stop and trying to keep him from hurting himself.

"D…" Sam cried, breathlessly.

Dean's heart clenched even tighter.

"Shh… Sammy, I've got you. It's okay" he soothed.

Sam's body kept convulsing and there was nothing he could do to control it. His eyes were wide with fear and he just wished he could pass out so he wouldn't have to feel the humiliation.

"m'k it st'p…" Sam breathed, tears pooling in his eyes. His brother had to hold the base of his neck to stabilize his head so he wouldn't bash it against the floor once more. Sam wasn't sure how much more beating it could take anyway.

And finally, just as they came, the convulsions were gone. Sam breathed a sigh of relief and slumped into Dean's arms. His brother let him rest and patted his shoulders in comfort.

"It's okay, it's over now" he assured softly.

Sam closed his eyes and tried to take deep breaths to fill his starving lungs.

Dean kept a close eye on his resting brother. His heart was still racing. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He also hated himself for punching his already hurting brother. Sam might have been taller and bigger than him but when it came to his head, his little brother was a porcelain shop. With one hit, everything could break, especially now.

He closed his eyes in profound shame and bowed his head.

"I'm sorry, Sammy" he apologized.

Sam opened his eyes to slits and peered up at his brother. But his eyes quickly and suddenly widened as fear hit him once again, this time exploding within his chest. Dean didn't see it because he still had his head bowed.

"I shouldn't have punched you… your head… it's brok…" he started when a strangled sound made his eyes snap open. He looked down and his heart stopped for the second time.

"Dean!" Sam called too clearly and too painfully. His eyes were wide enough to pop out of their sockets. His fists were clenched and his jaw was shut tight. Something was so wrong.

"Sam?" Dean breathed before it happened and his whole world came crashing down.

One second, Sam was looking at him with fearful eyes and next thing he knew, they were rolling back into his head. His mouth slit open and a strangled cry came out before his brother's breath caught in his throat. It came so suddenly and so violently that Dean had to step away for his own safety and his brother's.

One second ago his brother was okay. Now he was far from it.

Sam's body was trashing on the floor. His arms and legs were flailing dangerously but that didn't even matter. He only cared that Sam's head was hitting the floor over and over again. His eyes were still slightly open where he could see the white in them. But it wasn't until Sam's mouth started producing foam that Dean's brain starting working into panic mode.

His brother was having a fucking seizure! The biggest one he'd ever seen. Nothing had ever prepared him for this. He quickly looked at the clock because he somehow knew that he had to keep track of time.

He then sprung to his feet and quickly grabbed a pillow off the bed to thrust it under his brother's jerking head. If he could keep him from hurting more, he would. And then he waited, counting the seconds until the grand mal passed.

The first three minutes had gone by and Sam was still violently trashing on the floor. Dean was panicking and he was focused so much on his brother that he almost forgot to breathe for himself.

Four minutes.

Still no change.

After five minutes, Dean knew he'd have the call an ambulance. He only wished it wouldn't get there. But Sam's limbs were still flailing and strangled sounds came out of his throat.

Four minutes and a half.

His brother was still seizing.

Dean wanted to bawl, to hurl, to rip his guts open only to let the pain out. He couldn't take this anymore.

Five minutes.

That's it. His brother had crossed the five minutes limit and still there was no change. Dean's heart shattered.

"Oh Sammy… what have I done" he breathed.

He picked up his cell phone and sadly dialed the emergency number.

"My brother's been seizing for over five minutes" he admitted in shame.

And the reassuring lady told him that an ambulance was on the way. But he wouldn't get calm until Sam stopped seizing and finally rested.

Six minutes.

This was agony. Dean felt like dying a little more with each passing seconds.

Seven minutes.

Finally.

The jerking stopped and Sam's limp body slumped to the ground. Dean felt a warm breath explode in his chest. Tears of relief escaped his eyes and he reached his brother's side.

Softly, he pulled Sam in the resting position, laying him on his side.

He murmured "Okay buddy, it's over now. You're okay. Just breathe, alright?!"

Only then did he notice how cold his brother's skin was.

He started trembling.

"S…Sam?" he stuttered.

He got no response. Not even the rise of a chest. Not even a puff of air.

Sam's chest was still and his lips were already turning an awful shade of blue.

**TBC **

**Cliffhanger! Sorry about that! So what do you think about the story so far? Should I keep going? Tell me what you thought, I love to hear from you ! Take care guys!**


	2. Comatose

Marianne leaned on the desk as she impatiently jotted down the last test results in her patient's file. She'd been working for eleven hours straight and the Head Resident finally allowed her to leave as long as she completed the last of the paperwork before going. She had reluctantly agreed, but still preferring the calm of the paperwork rather than the never-ending flurry of the ER.

She'd been a nurse for a few years now, seeing all kinds of different stories. Mostly, it's her love for people that drove her after ten hours of work and an umpteenth coffee to keep going. But really, she was still only human after all and she did need a few hours of sleep every once in a while.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as her vision blurred when she read the same line for the fifth time. It was really her time to go. A few more lines and footnotes and she'd be free.

But tonight she wouldn't get so lucky. Maybe her emotions got in the way, she couldn't tell. But really, there was nothing to make her leave after that.

The doors of the ER had flung open to a team of frantic medics pushing a stretcher. There was a man lying on it. Marianne couldn't see his face from where she stood but she instantly felt a strange attraction to him. Maybe it was from the other man that was following behind the medics pushing that stretcher away. This one must have been a friend… maybe even a family member. No stranger would react the way he did.

She saw how he was pushed out of the way and the distress radiating from him. Instantly, she felt sympathy even though the good looking stranger was proving to be quite aggressive. He just looked so helpless… so broken… and desperate.

She couldn't stand the pain that she saw in his face and something tugged at her stomach. She wanted to know. More than that, she needed to know. She put the file down and followed the frenzy medical team. All possible fatigue had vanished, leaving her with an energy she had no idea she still had in her. Either way, it was late and they were short on staff.

Sam. She learned that this was the guy's name. He was young and rather attractive. Maybe that was part of what was making her stay. The rest of the staff was working frantically. She had to follow. Nobody said anything about how she was supposed to be gone.

"Male, late twenties, suffered a mild concussion three weeks ago. His brother says he collapsed and started convulsing while still being conscious, then fell unconscious and had a full blown seizure. When the paramedics arrived, he wasn't breathing" the Intern stated, reading the paramedic's report.

The Resident nodded at the information. He turned to Marianne and barely hid his surprise at seeing her before barking orders. "Vitals?" he asked.

Marianne turned to the monitors and observed the readout. "Pulse is 50, BP's 140 over 90, sats are 100 % after intubation" she read.

Doctor Hamilton, the best physician on the whole neurological floor walked into the room at that moment. He asked for the report and state of his patient. As he heard the details, his face darkened. He'd been doing this job long enough to be able to tell the prognosis even before making any test. He didn't believe in miracles either.

"Signs of increasing ICP* with possible cerebral edema. What's his LOC*?" the Doctor asked.

The Resident approached the bed and took out his penlight, opening Sam's lids and checking out his pupils. "Right pupil is dilated and non-reactive to light. Left pupil is sluggish. There's no consensual reflex" he announced.

Marianne was already starting her assessment. She positioned herself next to Sam's head and tried calling to him, asking for him to wake up. He didn't open his eyes though. She decided that is was time to change her methods and she sadly found Sam's fingers. She then pressed her own nail to the side of his and started applying a noxious pressure.

In the first seconds nothing happened. Then surely, Sam's muscles flexed but instead of pulling away from the pain, his arm went to his side, turned towards the inside. Marianne sighed. The prognosis wasn't good and she knew it.

"Patient is comatose with a GCS* of 5" she reported sadly. She didn't need to be a neurosurgeon to know what that meant. This Sam guy was not in a good shape. Not at all.

Doctor Hamilton was well aware of that too because he didn't lose any time.

"I want this man up for a CT as soon as right now. Start him on hypertonic saline stat and if the results from the scan confirm what I think, I want him up in the ICU on mannitol" he barked.

And he was right. He was consulting the CT scan results now and cringed when he saw the size of the edema. It was no wonder the guy was unresponsive and Hamilton was amazed that he wasn't dead yet. "Well, Sam, we gotta get that swelling down" he muttered to himself.

**SPN**

Dean was pacing anxiously. He couldn't shake the images out of his mind and kept replaying the scenes over and over again. He thought his heart would've stopped when he saw his little brother lying motionlessly on the floor. On top of that, Sam had stopped breathing!

After minutes of endless seizing, his brother had finally slumped over to die. If he hadn't known CPR and if he hadn't already called the EMS, Sam would probably be dead now. And it was all his fault. He'd punched his brother, for Christ's sake! Of course, if he had known that Sam would be hurt like that, he never would've hit him in the first place.

What was he thinking? Of course Sam was still recovering. They'd taken him out of the Hospital AMA after that incident at Bobby's. In normal circumstances, Sam should have stayed in the Hospital but with all those Leviathans running around and eating people, Dean couldn't let that happen and risk blowing the cover when they were weakened and vulnerable.

Now it was taking so much time before anyone came in to tell him something, anything about Sam. He really hated it and would've gone crazy if he weren't so scared of being kicked out.

He spotted a nurse coming towards him. He'd noticed her at first but he hadn't really paid attention. He was too worried and angry that they wouldn't let him follow his brother to the examining room.

But as she approached, he realized she did look familiar. She was young with long blond hair wrapped in a pony tail. Dark smudges under her eyes testified of her dedication and long hours of work. But her smile was comforting. He found himself wanting her presence.

She finally reached his side and cleared her throat. Dean honestly didn't know what to think.

"Hm, were you the guy that came in with Sam Deyoung?" she asked softly. Her eyes were bright and for a second, Dean was too dazed to remember the alias they were using this time.

"Ye… yeah. Sam's m… Sam's my brother. How is he? Do you know anything about him?" he blurted out. Swallowing compulsively at his own discomfort and rubbing the sweat away from his palms.

She pulled her lips up into an attempt at a smile.

"Well, I do. My shift's over and I'm not his physician but I was there with him and when I saw you two together earlier… I don't know I just figured you'd want to know how Sam… your brother – is doing" she rambled.

He looked at her with a puzzled look but finally registered that she really wanted to help. Besides, he'd do anything to have a word on his brother's condition. He could simply nod in response to the long and blurry confession. He was so tired after his last bout of adrenaline had died down.

"Sam's received quite a hit. His latest concussion probably weakened him actually. The slightest hit could have been fatal and he's lucky to still be alive" she started. Dean was trying to decipher the underlying meaning of her words.

"There's a _but_ coming" he murmured. She sighed.

"He's fighting. But he's got a long road ahead of him" she confessed.

Dean swallowed. He didn't like the sound of that. Not at all.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice reaching a lower tone and Marianne found herself shivering.

"I'm afraid Sam's injury is quite severe. He'll need you more than ever now" she admitted.

Dean's eyes were wide with shock. What was she saying? Of course Sam had bashed his head but they did all the time. This was just another hit they'd take together and deal with it.

"I hope to see you again. I don't know why but I want to know what happens to Sam. If ever we meet again, I'd love to have news from you two" she said hopefully.

Dean frowned.

"I'm Marianne" she greeted, handing her palm out for a shake. Dean returned the handshake but he was still visibly perplexed. Besides, knowing Sam, he'd be dopey for the night and then he'd call Bobby and manage to get his kid brother out again. The girl better not get her hopes up too quickly.

"I'm Dean" he finally replied, deciding that being nice wouldn't hinder his plans in any ways.

She smiled and wished him goodnight before leaving. She seriously intended to call the nurses office and manage to get shipped into the ICU. She really wanted to take care of this patient now. Sam had totally mystified her and she wanted to know more about those two attractive brothers.

Dean sighed with impatience as he could only rely on the nurse's words about his brother. What did she mean anyway? Of course, he had the fright of his life when he saw Sam lying there unmoving but the paramedics had taken care of it. Sam would be okay. He always turned out okay. Even with Lucifer hanging around, Sam was supposed to turn out okay.

Movement brought him out of his thoughts when he saw a man in his mid forties walking towards the waiting room. It wasn't really crowded now considering it was in the early hours of the morning.

"Family of Sam Deyoung?" the man asked. Dean's head snapped up and he almost ran to the Doctor's side.

"He's my brother, how is he?" he blurted out.

The man sighed deeply. "Please Mr. Deyoung, let's have a seat in my office" he proposed. Dean frowned. Offices never meant anything good. It meant that doctors had bad news to deliver and didn't want to do it in the middle of a room with other people to not disturb the common peace with the pain of receiving bad news.

He clenched his fists in anger but didn't complain any further as he followed the man down to the neurology department. The plate outside the door read Dr Hamilton. Dean somehow knew that he didn't like what he was about to hear and the waiting game was actually causing him physical pain.

"Please, sit down" the man invited.

Dean obliged but he looked at the Doctor with eyes full of apprehension.

"What I'm going to say is not going to be easy, Mr. Deyoung" he started.

Dean had a nervous chuckle. "Well then let's just cut to the chase, shall we. How's Sam?" he asked coldly. Beating around the bush would do nothing to appease him.

"At the moment, he's stable. It's the best we can offer for now" he admitted. Dean frowned. Weren't Doctors supposed to tell you that everything would be okay? But then Dean wanted nothing but the truth.

"Please doc, don't sugar coat it" he replied. The man's face pulled into an annoyed frown. He wanted this over with as much as Dean did. He never enjoyed giving bad news.

"I wouldn't know how to so here it is. Sam suffered a traumatic brain injury. He has what we call a class III concussion or – in other words – a severe brain trauma. When we receive unconscious patients in the ER, we use a scale called the Glasgow Coma Scale to assess their level of awareness. A fully awake person like you and me would probably have a score of 15 for this test while patients with mild injuries might have a score of 13 or 14" the Doctor explained.

Dean was happy that the man was making it clear and everything but he wished that he could skip to the point and tell him more about Sam. He didn't care about statistics.

"What about Sam? How much did he score? With that geeky brain of his, he probably scored high!" Dean joked, trying to alleviate some of his discomfort. The unknown was still too scary.

The Doctor sighed deeply. He pulled his glasses off his nose and started rubbing the bridge of it. Instantly, the eldest Winchester knew something was up. His chest tightened painfully.

"When we tested him earlier, Sam had a score of 5" the physician announced unhappily. He expected Dean's shock and bowed his head when he saw the reaction in Dean's eyes.

"Sam is in a deep coma as we speak. The force of the impact brought on a condition called cerebral edema. Basically, when your brother hit his head, his brain started swelling rapidly. The swelling compressed the areas in his brain that control respiratory function. The lack of oxygen to his brain and the high blood circulation most definitely triggered the seizure you've witnessed before calling the emergency department" the physician described and explained.

Dean was at a loss of words. His stomach was flipping inside his ribcage, making him nauseous. From his hand, from his punch, he'd caused so much pain! He'd hit Sam and caused a swelling so bad it almost killed his brother. It would've actually. Sam was technically dead when the paramedics found him. But now there was no bouncing back from it either. His little brother was in a coma. Would he even wake up? And severe brain injury? Did that mean that if his brother ever woke up, he'd be handicapped?

The Doctor seemed to read his mind because he went on.

"Of course we will be taking high measures to reduce the brain swelling. Speaking of which, I need to have you sign a consent form so that we can start your brother on ventricular CSF* monitoring. I'll explain it more thoroughly to you when we get there. Sam's intracranial pressure is too high from what we can tell with the results of the CT scan we've just performed. We need to get it down before some more serious damage occurs" the professional continued.

Dean swallowed. He was leaking cold sweats now. Hearing what he had inflicted to his brother hurt him more than it did Sam. "More serious damage?" he stuttered, trying hard to keep the bile down.

"Possibly permanent disability or, in the worst case scenario, brain death… but that's why we want to start monitoring him as soon as possible. We've already started treatment to get the swelling down" he replied.

Dean nodded but he felt his stomach rebel. He was going to be sick if it went on like this. He swallowed compulsively. The idea of finding Sam injured beyond repair was nauseating.

"If you do manage to get the swelling down, does that mean that he'll recover fully?" Dean dared to ask. He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear the answer though.

The Doctor shrugged. "There are multiple factors that will influence Sam's recovery so really, it's too soon to tell. You have to consider the severity of your brother's injury, though. With an injury of that extent, the chances of a full recovery are very slim. If Sam wakes up, he might manage to have a good quality of life after a number of sessions through rehabilitation. But there is a possibility that he'll stay dependent for the rest of his life. And that's _if_ he wakes up…" he replied.

Dean's stomach tied itself into knots and almost made him choke on his breath. "If?" he repeated softly.

Doctor Hamilton sighed and bowed his head as if to apologize for the fact that he had nothing more positive to say.

"Your brother is strong to have made it this far, already. But you have to know that the more severe the injury is, higher is the risk of complications and subsequently – of death" he stated.

Dean's hands were twitching from the buildup of emotions raging inside of him like a fire. No way could this be happening! And now that Castiel was gone, he couldn't summon the angel and make him heal his brother. Sam was truly hurt and there was nothing he could do to help.

"Do you think he'll pull through?" he finally asked shyly, afraid of a negative answer.

The Doctor attempted to offer a sympathetic smile.

"I'll do everything in my power to help him and I'd advice for you to have faith" he tried.

Dean's jaw clenched tightly. After the news he heard, faith was the lowest thing on his list of things to take care of. He knew who was listening on the other side and who "faith" referred to.

"I'm not sure praying is what's gonna help my brother right now" he said through gritted teeth.

"Then if you don't pray for yourself, do it for him" Hamilton proposed.

Dean wanted to bite but he had to keep in mind that this man was the one who was taking care of his brother.

"As for treatment, I want to let you know what we're going to do with Sam. As soon as you've signed the consent forms, I want to insert a drain in Sam's ventricle. The catheter will help decompress your brother's brain and it will also allow us to monitor his intracranial pressure. As soon as we got a number, will we know how aggressively we have to treat him to increase his chances of a positive recovery" the physician explained.

"Then we will be administering salty solutions to decrease the fluids in his body, which should reduce the swelling. We'll also keep him on anticonvulsants at first to prevent the risk of seizures. We'll also have to make sure we keep his blood pressure high enough and for the next day or so, we will be hyperventilating him with a ventilator. This is also to help decrease the swelling. If it doesn't work, we'll meet again and decide on more aggressive methods of treatment" he finished.

Dean nodded at the amount of information he was given since none of it really mattered more than knowing if Sam was going to be okay or not.

"Do you have any questions?" Hamilton asked.

Dean shook his head and his eyes fixated on nothing. "Where do I sign the consent forms?" he asked on a monotone, never taking his eyes off an invisible spot he'd laid his eyes on.

**SPN**

Dean decided to take a breath of fresh air while Doctor Hamilton was driving a catheter through a hole in his brother's head. The simple idea of it made his stomach churn again. Cold shivers racked through his body despite the rather warm air. His knees buckled and he stumbled over to a bush where he crashed and emptied his stomach.

Knowing that he had caused his brother's pain was the most excruciating sorrow. His body was weak from all the stress and the lack of sleep taking care of his brother had brought on him.

When he finally regained his composure, he managed to dig his cell phone out of his pocket and speed dial Bobby's number. The gruff voice finally broke through the ringing in his ears and emotions filled him instantly.

"Bobby, it's me" he stated, his voice shaking. His lower lip trembled and he had to hold on to something before completely falling apart.

"_Dean? What's wrong? Is everything ok, boy?_" the old hunter asked.

"No it's not. Sam's hurt. I did this to him, Bobby. I hurt him" he cried.

"_What happened?_" Bobby asked calmly. He knew upsetting Dean even more would only make things worse.

"I didn't mean to" Dean breathed. His guilt was hard to hear and even through the phone, Bobby's heart was breaking for the boys he'd come to love like his own sons.

"_I know you didn't, Sport. Sam's a strong kid, he'll pull through_" Bobby tried.

Dean was almost in tears now and he was having a hard time catching his breath. Panic was rising inside his chest at the many possibilities that ran into his mind. Sam would either die from this or end up brain damaged and he'd be the one responsible for it.

"Not this time, Bobby. I really screwed up. I failed him" he stated sternly.

"_Do I need to come over, kid?_" the old man proposed.

Dean realized how at a loss he was without family around and that's when it hit him just how much Bobby meant to both Sam and himself.

"I you can make it here, yeah I could really use the support. I don't think I can do this on my own" he admitted sadly. Confessing to his weakness wasn't something he enjoyed either.

"_It's okay, I understand. You don't have to go through this alone either. I'll finish tracking the lead I have on the Leviathans and then I'll meet you as soon as I can!_" he promised.

"Okay. Thank you, Bobby. You take care of yourself, will ya?"

"_You do that too, kid. Sam needs you so don't do anything stupid_" Bobby replied with a smirk. He knew the boys too well but that's why he was so fond of them in the first place.

They ended their conversation. Dean noticed for the first time that the sun was starting to rise. He took several deep breaths of fresh air and let the bright light burn at his retinas. He could've been trailing Leviathans now. He could've been on the road in his beloved Impala and with his healthy brother riding shotgun.

But that had died as soon as Sam collapsed in that hotel room.

Nothing was ever going to be the same after this.

And he was the one to blame.

**TBC**

*LOC = Level of consciousness

*GCS = Glasgow Coma Scale

*ICP = intracranial pressure

*CSF = Cerebrospinal fluid

**I'm so happy with the reviews and favorites I got for the last chapter! Thank you guys, it means so much to me and I'm glad you've liked the first chapter! I hope you liked this one as well and the ones to come. This one didn't have a lot of story content aside from setting the medical facts straight before moving on in the story. All medical facts are thoroughly researched and I hope they are accurate enough. It took me forever because I'm such a perfectionist! **

**Also, it focused a lot on Dean's guilt. Don't forget that he doesn't know about Amy yet. He thinks he's to blame when he just accelerated the symptoms. Even though his guilt may be present at first, I'd like to get him to overcome that by being really present for his brother. Sammy's gonna need it! **

**Lol don't forget to leave feedback and let me know what you thought. I'll try to keep updating regularly if you still want me to keep going. Thank you for reading ! **


	3. Under Pressure

Dean dragged his feet back into the Hospital and towards the ICU. Knowing that Bobby would be joining him should have made him feel better but he wasn't completely convinced. Part of him was really happy he'd be getting support because he honestly didn't know if he could handle this on his own. On the other hand, he still hadn't told the older hunter exactly what he had done to Sam and he feared that his father figure would be utterly disappointed with him when he found out that his little brother was deeply unconscious and probably permanently disabled because of him.

Dean sighed and shivers racked his body. No matter how much Bobby would be angry with him, it would never beat the self inflicted pain he was providing himself with. The guilt was unbearable and he truly questioned whether he should make another deal with the devil and offer Sam his own life since he felt like he didn't deserve it anymore. He'd caused his brother's pain so the only way he could think of redeeming himself was to give Sam back his life by taking his own away.

But full desperation hadn't hit yet. They were Winchesters after all. Dean had seen his brother die numerous times and Sam always pulled through somehow. The doctors might be saying that Sam wouldn't be recovering but they didn't know what he knew. They didn't have his resources. He'd find something. He still didn't know what but he would.

He couldn't leave Sam in this state. This wasn't fair. And the blame fell on him and him only.

Dean finally made it back to the ICU and realized he had no idea where Sam was. He still hadn't seen his baby brother ever since he'd came in the hospital. Something in him was nagging at his guts. He didn't know if he wanted to see Sam either. He just wasn't ready to face the full extent of the damage he'd inflicted with his own fist.

The eldest Winchester swallowed and wrestled with his inner feelings. For a moment, he stood there and debated whether he still even had the right to be there. After all, after what he did, did he even deserve it?

He quickly reckoned that the pain of not knowing was worse than the pain of seeing his brother's pain. He had to be there. He had to let Sam know how sorry he was and how he would find the way to make it up to him.

So he did what he thought he'd never be able to do. He walked up to the nurses' station and asked for his brother's room number. The sympathetic looking nurse informed him that she had to page Sam's doctor first. She had a note saying that the physician wanted to speak with Dean as soon as possible.

Dean didn't know if that meant good or bad. His stomach flip flopped inside of him. He didn't know how much more he could take and unfortunately, he knew that this was just the beginning. His little brother was _so_ not out of the woods yet. The road ahead was stretching past his line of vision. _When would they ever catch a break?_

Doctor Hamilton finally walked up to him when he spotted him in the waiting room. He sent Dean an acknowledging nod before reaching his side. The eldest Winchester noticed the grim look on his face and his insides squeezed even tighter.

"Mr Deyoung, I need to talk to you in my office" he announced bluntly.

This was _so_ _not _good.

Dean nodded sadly and followed the man back to the office he'd only left some time ago. He wasn't ready for more bad news regarding his brother's health. The prognosis was bad enough already.

He sat nervously and restlessly shifted every two seconds before the medical professional started explaining the situation to him. He was going to hate it, he knew it. His inner self yelled at him to get up and run but he had to know. He wouldn't be at peace if he didn't. And he couldn't leave Sam, of course.

"Mr Deyoung, I have important news for you" Hamilton started. Dean's eyes snapped back up. Of course he did. Why would he have brought him here in the first place if he didn't?

"I've completed the intervention of installing an external ventricular drain in your brother's head. This has allowed me to start monitoring his intracranial pressure, as I explained to you before. The readings are not good. That's why I'm here with you right now" he admitted.

Dean hated the sound of things. He was going to be sick again, he knew it. There was a tube in his brother's brain now? The idea made him tremble.

"The monitor measuring the pressure in your brother's brain is giving us a constant readout in units of pressure. The normal readout should be of 10 mmHg and we usually start to worry when it surpasses 20 mmHg. You probably know where I'm going with this. Sam's current intracranial pressure is of 43mmHg" the doctor announced.

Dean didn't know what that meant but his blood froze and became solid in his veins. He didn't need to be a genius to figure out that Sam's results were too far from normal for comfort.

"Meaning what" he finally asked, snapping out of his stupor.

The man in front of him sighed. "Meaning that if we can't get it down as quickly as possible, either brain herniation or brain infarction will occur. Unfortunately, both conditions are mostly fatal" the physician confessed, bowing his head at the pain of not being able to provide a happier prognosis.

"You said _mostly_ fatal" Dean pointed out. Every chance he'd get in finding a glimmer of hope, he would hang on to it.

"Don't get me wrong, Mr. Deyoung. Those who survive are disabled for the rest of their lives. Many don't make it farther than a vegetative state" he explained.

Dean's head was spinning now and he wondered if he was going to faint instead of throwing up. Maybe even both. But the doctor straightened himself and cleared his throat.

"But Sam hasn't reached that point yet. Although his chances are slim, there is still hope. We stopped administering diuretic solutions because it could increase the pressure and we want to reduce it. Sam's intracranial pressure is stable and high as we speak. It _has_ to go down in the next hours or we _will_ have to seek more aggressive methods to force it down" the physician continued.

Dean nodded but he still had no idea what that meant. He only heard the word 'aggressive' and it set him up in panic mode.

"What are we talking about, doc" he asked. He didn't like how his voice was shaking.

"So far he's already on constant monitoring. He's also hyperventilated. We've elevated his head rest and we're hoping it will help improve his blood flow. He's also showing signs of increasing body temperature and blood pressure. His body is clearly trying to fight as those are signs of attempted natural self regulation. It's a good sign, really. It means that Sam is fighting. I'm still worried though as a high blood pressure increases the blood flow in the brain and thus increases the pressure" Doctor Hamilton explained.

Dean nodded even though that was way too much information for his tired brain. The only thing that mattered was that he heard that through it all, his brother was still fighting.

"Now if his condition doesn't improve shortly, there are a few more aggressive methods we can try before considering surgical solutions" Hamilton started.

Dean frowned at the word surgical but nodded for the professional to go on.

"Hyperventilation can be performed in the first couple of days after brain injury but it brings a risk if it has to be used for more than 72 hours because it increases the risk of ischemia, which is the lack of blood in parts of the brain. If Sam's intracranial pressure doesn't go down, we will have to start monitoring his cerebral oxygen levels through his jugular vein in order to keep the hyperventilation going. Adjusting the oxygen outflow will prevent the risk of ischemia" he explained.

Dean's head was truly spinning now. He was only starting to grasp how truly serious the situation was. Whatever the technicalities meant, he still understood what the result would be. Sam could die. Actually, he would if his brain didn't get better. Or his brain would die. The idea made him nauseous again.

"There is something we could try with your permission. Sometimes, inducing hypothermia in patients with stable high intracranial pressure improves their condition. But if it doesn't work, we will have to consider decompressive craniectomy. It's a procedure where we remove a fragment of the skull in order to let the brain expand. It's a last resort option before herniation sets. It prevents the brain from being crushed against the skull" the physician finished.

Dean was shaking now and his lower lip was trembling. This was so bad. This was actually worse than every worst scenario he'd imagined.

"What happens now" Dean finally asked, trying to clarify all the information and put everything together in logical order.

"For now, we monitor his pressure closely and pray that it goes down quickly. If it doesn't go down in the next few hours, we will have to consider the other options. The longer Sam's pressure is this high, the lower are his chances of recovering" the doctor stated sadly.

Dean nodded and swallowed back a cry of pain that never made it past his lips.

"Is… is there… is there anything I can do?" he stuttered.

Doctor Hamilton looked at him seriously and then his features softened in compassion.

"Be there for him. Talk to him. Let him know you're there. Tell him to keep fighting. I like to think that he'll be able to hear you and there's a chance that he'll listen to you. We could tell him anything but he doesn't know us. You're his brother. Let him know that" he proposed.

Dean shook at the idea of talking to an unconscious Sam. He'd done that plenty of times in the past but never in this condition. He'd never been scared to see Sam's brain die before. Sure, the kid had taken a lot of hits to the noggins over the years. But every time it happened, Dean knew Sam would pull through. Now his baby brother might not and that broke his heart.

He had to seriously remind himself that he was a hunter and that he knew stuff. The Winchesters had pulled through a lot of shit together with the help of the supernatural. Of course, they hunted those things but he had to admit he'd picked up a few useful tricks because of it. There was witchcraft and then there were crossroad demons… and people that had healing powers… and angels…

Dean swallowed compulsively at the idea of the angels. Lucifer was back in his cage, thanks to Sam, Gabriel had died protecting them and then Balthazar too had died helping them. Finally, Castiel had died pulling the Leviathans from Purgatory and letting them out in the open. All the other angels he could think of were dicks that tried to make his and Sam's life a living hell. But they were dead too.

His dad was dead and so were Jo and Ellen. The only people he had left, his only remaining family, was Sam and Bobby. But now Sam might die and Bobby was supposed to be on the way. Dean had almost had a breakdown when he thought the Leviathans burned the older hunter down with his house. If Bobby had died, he would've been all alone.

So what could he possibly do for Sam? Who could he call for help? He had no one left. And that broke his heart a first time. The second time was when he finally saw Sam.

**SPN**

Doctor Hamilton had led Dean to Sam's room in the ICU, while explaining what the older brother had to expect. Dean was only listening partly to the professional's ramble but whatever he had said couldn't prepare him for this.

The pain was excruciating. His inner voice kept yelling at him and wouldn't leave him alone. It repeated over and over that it was Dean's fault. That he knew how much Sam was hurt but he had been too selfish to care and punched him over a freaking car. The Impala, Dean could fix. But he couldn't fix his brother and now even the doctors were wondering if they could.

Sam was pale. There was a fine sheen of sweat covering his skin and Dean could only guess it was from the increasing fever his brother was battling. He couldn't move any further and stared at his brother from where he stood.

There were just so many monitors and tubes and wires. The most terrifying ones were the one that stuck from the back of his brother's head and that was connected to a machine that Dean assumed was the one measuring the pressure in his head, and the one coming out of his parted lips. Only then did Dean notice the whooshing sound of the ventilator that was breathing for his brother.

The equipment around the bed was massive and different screens offered different readings of functions that he knew nothing about. His attention shifted to Sam's heartbeat that was – now that he noticed – too slow to his liking. What unnerved him the most now was the stillness with which his brother lay.

Sam looked like death warmed over. Dean couldn't help but to think that his brother _would_ die if he didn't start getting better soon. This was so bad.

He finally found what strength he had left to walk to the side of the bed. Then what he had managed to muster up vanished and left him crashing down in the chair next to the bed. He felt limp and powerless and his pain accentuated at the sight of his brother.

Dean finally looked at Sam's face and cringed when he saw the bruise forming around his brother's left eye. That bruise was up there because of his own fist. His guilt skyrocketed until he noticed something else. Under Sam's too long and damp bangs, there was the shadow of more darkening skin. Only this time, it was on the right side of his face and ran under his hair to the side of his head.

Dean frowned and delicately pulled his brother's hair away, uncovering another bruise he hadn't seen before. The question still remained in his head – _where the hell did that bruise come from?_

That wasn't from him, so much was obvious. He'd punched Sam enough to get him a black eye but not enough to cause a hematoma that big. Had his brother already been hurt before his own punch? But still, even if he'd been, Dean had exacerbated his symptoms because Sam hadn't collapsed before the motel and _his _punch.

"Dammit, Sammy" he breathed out. "If I'd known…" he started, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry" he finally apologized, his voice remorseful and broken. He wanted to cry too but he wouldn't let the chick flick grow. He wasn't one to show his emotional pain, anyway.

Sam didn't move. He didn't stir, he didn't blink, he didn't anything. He just laid there, his face flushing and his chest rising and falling mechanically with the aid of the vent. Dean had to be careful not to jostle at any of the many IV lines and wires tapped to his brother's arms.

Dean just sat there and stared at his brother's moving chest. It was his only relief. The beeping of the heart monitor was also the only thing testifying that his brother was still alive. They stayed in silence for a while longer. Dean was dazed, slumped over in the chair. Sometimes, he stiffened and shifted but that drained him of all his remaining energy again before he would slump back.

He felt awkward and holding hands was out of the question. He still focused on not throwing a chick flick, even though his brother was comatose. But it wasn't just his pride – _if only_. He didn't feel like he deserved to be there and comfort Sam, when he was the one who had hurt him in the first place.

The silence grew heavy and unbearable and Dean found himself growing impatient and uncomfortable. He shifted restlessly before finally clearing his throat.

"Sam…Sammy" he started, fidgeting nervously.

"I don't know what to say, man. I'm sorry. I should have never hit you. But please… please fight this, okay?" Dean softly begged. He'd been trying hard to hold back the tears but now they were threatening to fall.

"You better wake up so I can tell you how sorry I am and I'll even let you hit me back, okay?! Don't you dare give me the silent treatment! We need to fix this!" Dean growled. He knew his words were coming harsher than he meant for them to but he needed his brother to listen to him this time. He needed Sam to oblige. His only order was for him to live.

"You understand me? Don't you dare give up on me!" he finally let out in anger and desperation. He really needed Sam to do that for him. He'd take all the bitching and complaining in the world if his brother at least lived to give them to him.

Dean was interrupted when a nurse came into the room. He hadn't paid attention before but now that he was alert, he wanted to know what she was doing to his brother.

She smiled at him when she noticed that he was looking at her. "I'm Nancy" she greeted. Dean nodded.

"Dean" he replied simply. She offered him another smile. Nancy had a very motherly look to her. She must have been in her late forties and her light brown eyes held a warmth that was comforting.

"It must be hard seeing your brother like this" she said.

Dean nodded. She had no idea just how hard it really was. After all, Dean hadn't told anyone that he'd been the one to punch Sam in the first place. He knew they'd keep him away from his brother if he did.

"He looks like a strong man though" she added softly. Dean's eyes slipped away from Sam and crossed hers.

"He's fighting" she resumed, noticing his skeptical look.

At that he nodded. At least his brother wouldn't go down without a fight. In that he recognized Sam to be a Winchester. He had always been too. As a Winchester, if you go down, you go down swinging.

"Do you think he has a chance" Dean finally asked, shyly.

She looked up from her chart and offered Dean a sympathetic look. The eldest Winchester found himself hating that look. He didn't need sympathy or pity. He wanted someone to make his brother better.

"I can't really say and I'm not a doctor" she apologized sadly.

He bowed his head.

"But is he at least getting better?" he asked again, his voice lower than it was before.

She sighed and looked at the previous reports.

"His systolic blood pressure increased again. His blood pressure's now 145 over 90. Normally I would say it's too high but in this situation, it's needed because it maintains Sam's cerebral perfusion pressure up" she explained.

Dean nodded. He liked that she was explaining this to him so he could understand what was actually going on with his brother.

"His mean arterial pressure is 108. Again, it would be too high normally but in this situation, I want it to be over 100. I'll need this number when I calculate his cerebral perfusion pressure, also called CPP. It allows the brain to control its own blood flow. That's why I want to keep it high with Sam. But if it drops below 50 mmHg, Sam will be in trouble. Let's just hope that it doesn't happen. Now, your brother's current intracranial pressure is 41 mmHg. To find his CPP I just have to take the mean arterial pressure and subtract the intracranial pressure. Sam's CPP now is 67 mmHg if I follow that rule. It's little low. I'll be happier when it's above 70 mmHg" she concluded.

Dean processed what the calculations meant but what he really remembered was that Sam's brain was fighting to remain in control. Of course he hadn't reached the critical 50 but it was still too close for comfort.

"How is he doing then?" he asked finally.

Nancy looked back up to him with warm eyes.

"His ICP has decreased slightly. It's a start. His heart rate has increased a little, too. But he's still got ways to go" she admitted honestly. Dean nodded. He knew that but he needed hope.

"Thank you for your honesty, Nancy" he finally said. She smiled at him.

"You don't need to thank me! I don't see the point of lying to you, anyway. You deserve to understand what's going on" she replied. And Dean was truly grateful for that.

**SPN **

Josh Anderson sat at his desk, nervously toying with his pencil. His computer was turned on in front of him and a list of names went down. He was looking at the screen but not actually seeing anything.

Then an alert message caught his attention. It warned him that a certain Samuel Deyoung's insurance information requested verification. Josh smiled as he pressed his tongue to his sharp canines.

He picked the phone up and dialed a number in excitation. After two rings, a gruff voice resonated from the receiver's end.

"Edgar, it's Josh" he said.

Edgar sighed loudly. This was either going to be utterly annoying or particularly interesting.

"What do you want?" he asked, already getting annoyed.

"I found the Winchesters" Josh chimed.

Edgar's face could hardly mask his contempt now.

"Where" he asked with a growing smile.

"I found them through a medical insurance verification for the Kalispell Regional Medical Center" Josh explained with pride. If his assumptions turned out right, the boy had to be injured.

"Then why are you still talking to me" Edgar snapped.

Josh nodded. He ended the call and grabbed his stuff without looking back. Josh Anderson would never return to work. That was only logical since the real Josh Anderson was dead a while back. The proud Leviathan wearing his face smiled mischievously.

He had a destination. Montana is where he would find the Winchesters. And once they were dead, he'd be the boss' favorite. He licked his lips thinking of the feast ahead of him before finally departing to find his target.

**TBC**

**Thank you so much everybody! I'm so happy with the interest that you have taken in this story! I hope you still like it so far! The last part of this chapter resembles the ending of The Girl Next Door but it's just to bring the Leviathans back into the story. The rest will be mine.**

**Again, the medical facts are researched only. I hope they are accurate. It makes it a little more difficult to write but it's real fun! Lol. Don't forget to let me know what you thought of this chapter, please! I really love your messages they make me really happy! Also, thanks to everyone who's following and favoriting the story! Your support means a lot! Until next time, take care of yourselves!**


	4. Tragic Care

Waiting in the hospital when nothing happened made Dean uncomfortable. He didn't know if he should be bored because his brother was unresponsive or if he should be on constant alert in case anything happened. He'd been tensed at first but then he had finally realized that it was giving him nothing out of back pains and headaches.

He stopped fighting it at that point and found himself to be exhausted – even more than he first thought. After all, he hadn't quite gotten a chance to rest his eyes ever since he had left the motel in the back of that ambulance. Sam hadn't changed much either. He was so still and pale that Dean caught himself wondering if his little brother would pull through.

But he couldn't think like that. He knew that and had to force himself not to let the angst take over. He was feeling guilty enough without having to already blame himself for his brother's death – even though his brother was still very much alive albeit comatose.

Something else Dean had to get used to was the constant presence of the nurses. Well, they weren't _always_ in there with him but they were coming in and out so often that it felt like it to Dean. Whenever he'd want a moment with his brother, some medic in scrubs would barge in and start assessing his brother's state.

Dean was even surprised to see how many things the nurses had to do in order to treat his brother. Whether or not they would explain things to him, he wasn't stupid enough to not realize the amount of care Sam needed. The last improvement was when Nancy came back after she'd spoken to Sam's doctor. He had allowed her to administer something to Sam that would help increase his blood pressure. She explained again why they needed to keep it high enough so that his brother still had blood running in that brain of his.

Nancy took Sam's vitals again and she was disappointed when she had to tell Dean that his brother's ICP was stable. Only now, his cerebral perfusion pressure was a little higher. Nancy managed to get it to 72 and she was expressive when she told Dean that it _was_ good news. As long as it was over 70, they were safe.

Over the next couple of hours, Sam's condition hadn't changed. The other nurse came by when Nancy left after her shift was over.

Karen was about as old as his mother would have been to this day. But she was nothing like Mary Winchester. Dean didn't like her very much. She was mostly cold when speaking to him and she didn't explain things the way Nancy did. Dean found himself frowning when she prodded his brother.

She finally informed him that Sam's ICP was going down but only slightly. It wasn't really significant and it made Dean want to cry. The urge of pain came rushing at him and he waited for the nurse to leave before letting out a long and pained growl.

He turned to take a look at his brother and his heart clenched in his chest. Sam was still and pale. Nothing had changed and he wasn't getting better either. That made everything so much worse for Dean. His fear of losing his brother only increased.

Sometime later, Doctor Hamilton walked into the room with a file in his hands. Dean hadn't seen him since the last time in the man's office. He didn't know if he was happy to see him or not.

The physician cleared his throat and turned to face Dean.

"I heard from the nurses that Sam's intracranial pressure isn't going down like it should" he stated.

Dean shrugged. Hamilton was the health professional after all. It's not like Dean could tell him what to do. It was more like the other way around. Somehow, Dean knew they were moving to plan B – _or whatever letter they had gotten to_ _at this point_.

"Does that mean we have to choose a new treatment like the ones you told me about this morning?" Dean asked after taking the time to let the news sink in.

"Not yet, Mr. Deyoung. Right now, I'm here to get your consent for the jugular venous monitoring I want your brother on. Basically, it includes a small surgical procedure where we will insert a catheter in Sam's jugular vein. This will allow us to measure the amount of oxygen in his brain and therefore adjust the level of oxygenation we're providing to him and in order to prevent hypoxia – or lack of oxygen – in this case, in your brother's brain" Hamilton explained.

Dean frowned and controlled himself so he wouldn't start trembling in front of the doctor. He'd shown enough weakness already.

"Sure, whatever you have to do to save him… you have my consent" he finally stuttered. The Doctor nodded and wrote his notes on his pad. He finally looked back up at Dean with an attempt at a sympathetic smile.

"Alright Mr. Deyoung, I'll schedule the procedure. We'll also take Sam for radiography. Mostly, we want to make sure that the catheter has been inserted correctly but we also want to see how your brother's brain is doing" the Doctor announced.

Dean nodded. They could do whatever they wanted, really. Dean had lost every ounce of faith in his ability to take care of his brother and he wasn't even considering busting them out at this point. Maybe that had been his biggest mistake the first time. If Sam needed medical attention so desperately, Dean would let him have it.

**SPN**

Dean had gone out of the hospital for the first time since Sam was brought in. The surgical procedure and radiograph had been scheduled and while the doctors took care of his brother, Dean managed to find a motel near the hospital. He had a feeling he would be here for a while and figured he would need to take a shower every couple of days.

He went back to the old motel first and shivers racked his body when he walked in. Flashes of the night before forced their way inside his mind and before he could stop it, a painful groan escaped his lips.

_Sam had finally stopped seizing. Damn it, the kid had been trashing for too long and Dean knew this couldn't mean anything good. But it's when he looked at his brother that he realized how bad it really was. Sam's lips were quickly taking a pale shade of blue._

_As he pulled him to his side and tilted his head, Dean could only feel how cold his brother's skin was. He maintained his composure until he noticed the stillness of his brother's chest. Sam wasn't breathing._

_He could hear the sirens but they were only slightly comforting the immense pain that built in his chest._

"_SAM! Damn it, breathe! Don't do this to me! Don't you dare!" he shouted, searching for a pulse. His own heart stopped when he didn't find one._

_Out of panic and fear, he pushed his brother down on his back. He knew he had to do _something. _He remembered his father teaching him CPR all those years ago. It wasn't meant to use on his brother and he truly wished he had a choice but he didn't and Sam's life depended on it. _

"_Goddammit Sam, breathe!" he ordered, placing the heel of his hand against his brother's sternum and starting to pump with the added strength of his second hand, secured on and around the first one. In between compressions, he went to tilt Sam's head, plugged his nose and delivered two rescue breaths. Over. And over._

_At least until there was a knock on the door. _

"_It's open!" Dean yelled without leaving his brother's side._

_His arms were tired and he was sweating profusely from the effort of trying to keep his brother alive. But he couldn't give up. He would never give up on Sam. Not even when the paramedics rushed in and tried to push him to the side to assess Sam._

"_Sir, you've done a great job so far but now let us take over" one of them demanded._

_Dean finally nodded and pulled back reluctantly as he watched the scene from the side as the paramedic who replaced him performed compressions in the same fashion he had minutes ago. The second paramedic checked his brother for a pulse and frowned. _

"_Still no pulse, I'm preparing an IV entry" he announced, taking out a set of cannulas in order to pick the one he wanted. He then connected it to the bag of fluids and turned back to Sam, still lying lifelessly on the floor. The medic grabbed Sam's left arm and started disinfecting the inside of his elbow. He readied the area and grabbed the needle he would use to insert the catheter in Sam's arm. _

_Dean shivered at the sight of the needle. He was secretly happy Sam wasn't awake to see this or his seemingly tough brother would definitely cringe. _

_The paramedic got the catheter in. Dean was mesmerized by his movements and staring with attention. The medic cut open Sam's shirt, careful to move around his partner still performing CPR. He connected the electrodes to Sam's chest and back to the portable heart monitor._

_That's when they all had a visual confirmation of Sam's failing heart._

"_I've got a flatline" the medic informed the whole crew, including the people listening through the medical radio._

"Try to get a rhythm and give him 0.5 mg of epinephrine" _a voice said through the small radio. _

"_Okay, 0.5 mg of epinephrine is in" the medic said as he indeed pushed the medicine into the IV port. He also grabbed a mask that he slipped over his brother's nose and with an ambu bag that he squeezed repeatedly._

_The two medics waited to see the results on the heart monitor but nothing happened. The compressions continued along with the bagging but no change occurred on the heart monitor. A few minutes passed. _

"_Alright, I'll repeat the dose of epinephrine" the medic announced before pushing another dose of the same medicine in Sam's IV line. _

_The compressions and bagging resumed until something caught their attention._

"_He's in V-Fib!" the paramedic in charge of the compressions chimed. _

_The other one nodded, pulling the portable defibrillator closer. _

"_Okay, charging to 300" he barked, placing disposable gel pads on Sam's bare chest. He grabbed the paddles and placed them down on the pads._

"_Clear!" _

_Sam's body jolted from the shock before slumping back down. At that moment, Dean heard music come out of the heart monitor._

"_We're back into sinus rhythm! Let's roll!" the medics announced as Dean could now see the fragile but present heartbeat on the monitor. _

_The paramedics quickly loaded his brother in the ambulance and Dean followed. He wouldn't let them leave without him. _

"_Can I come" he asked simply, his tone beat and his shoulders slumped. _

_One of the medics turned to face him. _

"_Sir, we need room to work" he replied honestly._

"_Please" Dean begged softly. He even tried to pull out the puppy dog eyes even though he knew no one could do them as well as Sam could. "He's my brother… he's the only family I have left" Dean added for the dramatic effect. It wasn't completely false either. _

"_Alright but stay out of the way" the medic agreed. _

_Dean nodded and climbed in the back of the ambulance with his brother. The ambu bag had already been tossed away and replaced by a nasal cannula. The bag of saline connected to the IV had been hung above and Sam was now being hooked to all sorts of other wires that measured stuff like his blood pressure and oxygen saturation. _

_He watched them work to keep his brother alive while they shouted words he didn't even understand. He stared as they performed another set of tests that he didn't comprehend. He heard something about a low GCS but it didn't mean anything to him yet. _

"_What's wrong with him, is he going to be okay?" he finally asked softly._

_The medic turned to him and tried to offer a sympathetic smile. "I can't say but he's alive and he's hanging on" he offered. Dean didn't know if that was comforting to hear at all. _

"_His sats are dropping" the other medic suddenly called. _

_They both focused on the monitors and Dean heard them while they reported his brother's vitals on their radio. From what he could comprehend, they were asking permission to intubate. _Damn it Sam, you don't do things halfway, do you?

_And as they got the green light, he had to assist when they pushed a tube down his brother's throat. That was the moment that made everything else crumble. _

Dean shook at the memory. There wasn't a single waking moment when he didn't see Sam's lifeless body on the motel floor and now that he was back, he could almost see the ghost of the scene play in slow motion in front of him.

He ran to the bathroom when a sudden pain to his chest made it so damn hard to breathe but also made everything spin out of control. He bent over the commode and retched until his body couldn't hold him anymore. He took a moment to calm down and then hurried back to the room where he picked their stuff up, including his beloved Impala that he had left in the parking lot.

The motel manager remembered the room number when he checked out and suddenly acknowledged that Dean was the one who had left in the ambulance with the guy who rented that room the night before. He vaguely asked if Sam was okay and Dean wasn't too interested in starting a heart wrenching confession. He just nodded and left.

That's when he found that other motel much closer to the hospital where Sam was staying. After a much needed shower, he decided to get some sleep for the night. Sam wouldn't be waking up tonight after all and he was truly exhausted since he hadn't closed his eyes since morning – yesterday morning. He was almost running on forty-eight hours straight and definitely needed a nap before passing out. Besides, he'd be no good to his brother if he was unconscious himself.

**SPN**

He woke up at eight on the next day. He thought he must have been worse than he thought if he'd slept for so long. Dean didn't lose time on thinking and quickly made his way towards the main parking lot of the hospital. That's when he noticed the old beat up pick-up truck. He couldn't repress the huge smile that formed on his face and the one word that remained on his lips. _Bobby._

The older hunter had made it after all. He'd never been so happy to know that Bobby was there.

Dean almost ran up to the main lobby where he spotted the old hunter easily. Bobby was the same as usual, wearing his worn down coat and his signature baseball cap. For that very moment, Dean was filled with relief and comfort. Finally he wasn't alone anymore.

"Bobby" he greeted softly, his voice hoarse from having no one to talk to for two days.

The older hunter turned around and his features deepened when he saw the state Dean was in. The kid he'd come the love like his own was obviously making his life miserable. Dean looked pale and sick and the five o'clock shadow and deep dark rings under his eyes didn't help that matter. Bobby could also swear the eldest Winchester was growing wrinkles and gray hair.

"Damn it, Sport. You look like road kill!" he blurted out in an attempt at joking but Dean knew his father figure was only worried.

"Thanks, Bobby. I'm glad you could come" he admitted truthfully. He was really grateful to have the man around.

Bobby sighed. He still didn't know what happened but according to what Dean had said, Sam wasn't too hot these days.

"What happened, Dean? One minute you're worried about your brother flying over the cuckoo's nest and the next you're calling me to tell me Sam's in the hospital!" he recalled.

Dean breathed deeply, his shoulders tensing considerably. He still hadn't told the whole story. Bobby would surely tear him a new one for this. He was definitely done for.

"I… I might have overreacted a bit… Sam had stolen my car and ran off God knows where… I was scared Bobby!" he busted into stuttered excuses.

"What did you do this time, ya idjit?" Bobby snarled.

"I kinda… I uh… I punched him, Bobby. I didn't think…" he started but the gruff hunter cut him off.

"Of course you didn't think ya half-wit! Are you forgetting you're brother's head's as fragile as a china shop right now and you go barging in like a bull! Damn it, Dean!" Bobby scowled.

Dean was shaking now and he knew the old man was right. He was to blame. He didn't think and that's what happened. Now Sam might not…

He shook his head angrily to push the thought away. Flashes of Sam lying dead on the motel floor rushed back to him but he pushed them away. Next to him, Bobby was seething.

"Now let's go see that brother of yours so Sam and I can frown at you for being careless!" Bobby proposed.

Dean cleared his throat and for a second he wanted to tell Bobby that he wouldn't get much from Sam at this point but he didn't have the heart to. He nodded instead and led the way up to the intensive care unit. When Bobby saw the sign, he frowned.

"Jesus kid, did you mistake your brother's head for a piñata?" he joked.

Dean's breath caught in his throat and for a moment he really wanted to cry. Bobby was going to kill him for this but he still couldn't find it in himself to admit what he did. He was far too ashamed of himself and besides, he was already beating himself up.

When they finally reached the door, Dean spun on his heels. He came face to face with Bobby and the eldest could see the tremble in Dean's lip. He was that close to losing it in a way that Bobby hadn't seen in a long time.

"Bobby, I need to tell you… but I… _fuck_" Dean choked. His eyes filled with tears. Bobby's heart started beating faster. What was going on? Dean hadn't been so distraught since… forever.

"Damn it, Dean. You're gonna give me gray hairs! Just spill it, will ya? Whatever it is" Bobby urged.

Dean's breathing had picked up speed and Bobby could actually _hear_ it now.

"It's bad… they're saying… they think he won't… that he'll… I did this! It's all my fault" Dean choked out, tears spilling out of his eyes for the first time since the beginning of everything that had happened in the last two days.

Bobby grabbed Dean's shoulders tightly and held him in place.

"Sam will be fine, Dean. He's hard headed anyway, thanks to you Winchesters! Stop beating yourself up" he tried.

Dean shook his head. "Not this time, Bobby. I screwed up big… go in, you'll see" he assured.

Bobby sighed but he did as he was told. He walked into the room with Dean dragging his feet behind him. When the older hunter got a full view inside the room, his eyes widened. "Oh God" he breathed.

Dean finally reached the hunter's side and turned to see his brother that he had left on the previous night to get some sleep. Soon enough, he spotted the new installments. Sam now sported a totally fashionable catheter. It was sticking out from the side of his neck. His face was still pale and he was still lying there – deathly still.

To Bobby who still didn't know what the hell happened, this was somewhat overwhelming to say the least. He slowly turned on his spot and ended up face to face with Dean. His eyes were wide with shock but also something that Dean wondered if he could have described as hatred.

"Dean, this is not what you get for being smacked in the face! What the hell did you do?" Bobby started pressing. There was no escaping it at this point, Dean had to start explaining or he'd be dead within seconds.

"Told you, Bobby. I got worked up over stupid things and I lost control. I punched him. Once. Not even that hard actually. But he fell… and then… then… _oh God!_" Dean cried out, flashes of trashing huge little brothers tormenting him again.

"He… Sam… he started seizing… it was… _God!_... awful! It wouldn't stop and then… then he was lying there… and he wasn't… wasn't even… _shit_… he stopped breathing" the eldest Winchester managed to confess in tiny bits and in between ragged breaths and cries of emotional turmoil.

That Dean was definitely losing it right there.

But Bobby didn't care. He turned back to watch Sam's bruised face and the huge tubes sticking out of him.

"What's the prognosis" he asked coldly, not even turning to look back at Dean.

Dean breathed several times before regaining some of his composure.

"_If_ he ever wakes up… they're talking brain damage. That's _if _he even wakes up. They said his brain is swelling and that's not all of it… he's at risk for brain death from lack of everything you can think of… I… I'll lose him anyway. Even if he lives, he'll be gone. The Sam I know is gone" he finally admitted, his shoulders slouching with despair.

Bobby finally turned to face him.

"You couldn't think of that before you punched him? When you knew how weak he was with his wall breaking down and that last concussion… really you couldn't think about that for a second?" Bobby started, his voice so low Dean thought for a second that he heard his dad talking.

"I'm almost glad that your brother might never be aware to understand what you just did to him" the old man continued, his tone getting colder. Dean turned wide eyes to him as he was finally grasping where Bobby was going with this. He was blaming him too. And who wouldn't, really?

"Understand this, son. I'm sticking around because I care about you boys… but don't expect to just 'hey Bobby' me during this time. I'm staying for Sam. Right now, I don't even know if I have anything to say to you and I'm not gonna pretend I do" Bobby concluded.

Dean nodded and tears pooled in his eyes again. "Yes sir" he responded mechanically like he would have done with his father.

Then Bobby pulled a chair and dragged it to Sam's side.

"Hey kiddo, it's me. It's yer Uncle Bobby. I'm here and I'm not gonna hurt ya… I'm not like that ass-hat brother of yours" he said softly towards Sam but turning cold accusing eyes to the other Winchester.

Dean swallowed back as if he'd just gotten a punch in his windpipe. Panic overtook him again and images of his seizing brother flashed behind his lids. Dean suddenly wanted to kick and scream and destroy everything. He wanted to throw himself against a wall and break into thousands of pieces. That was it. He'd reached his breaking point.

He turned on his heels, located the door and he was gone right through it before anyone or anything could stop him. In the hallway, he almost bumped into his brother's doctor. Doctor Hamilton looked at him with a puzzled look and Dean saw it as judgmental and hateful. He took off again, looking only forward and never back.

He made it to the Impala in one breath and in the next, he was out on the open road with no idea of where he was heading to but surely, he didn't care. Away was the only direction that mattered.

TBC

**That's it for now, folks! I want to send another huge thank you to every single one of you who have reviewed, favorited and followed the story so far (and to those who will, of course)! It really means a lot to me that you're with me in this story and my heart warms when I read your reviews! You truly make my days! I've even been busy as hell in the last two weeks but kicked my own butt to get you a chapter because I didn't want to leave you hanging for too long! I'm into this as much as you are and I hope you'll still want to be a part of this as the story develops. I'm putting a lot of efforts into this but whenever I hear someone say they are liking it, I swear I can hear the little bells chiming! **

**Thank you, you guys are the best! Stay tuned for more of Bobby's POV as he takes care of Sam while Dean is off doing God knows what… and well danger awaits too because you're not a Winchester if you don't have something following you in the dark, ready to kill you. **

**Don't forget to review too, I love to hear from you guys! Til next time, stay oughta trouble! *chuckles***


	5. Calm Before the Storm

Bobby was struck by Dean's reaction. He hadn't been meaning to sound so harsh but he couldn't help the anger he felt as soon as he saw which state the youngest Winchester was in. After working so hard to keep Sam safe, what had his brother been thinking? Dean knew how much Sam was hurting. A few days ago, the older Winchester had still been complaining about Sam being off. He thought the kid still hadn't recovered from the blow he took after their fight with Edgar. Sam was spacing out and Dean hated it.

Knowing something like that, how could Dean be so careless and even think of being rough with his brother? Now that Bobby could really study the youngest, he started to understand what had Dean so distraught. The sight was scaring even him. Sam was pale and so unlikely still. The older hunter had seen the kid fidget around ever since he'd confessed to Lucifer tormenting his every waking moments. Even in sleep, Bobby could still tell that Sam wasn't really resting.

But right now, the boy was so silent that it unnerved him to his very core. He could comprehend what had Dean all over the place. After two days of staying there next to Sam's unresponsiveness, he'd go crazy too. But as much as he felt bad for Dean, he still couldn't accept what the boy did to his brother and he wouldn't start petting Dean by telling him everything would be okay and to not worry because that's not how he felt.

He was pissed. And most of all, he wasn't going to promise everything would be okay because for the first time, he wasn't convinced that this was indeed the truth. He'd seen the brothers get through many things together. But now Sam was in a bad shape and Dean was to blame for it. Even before everything happened, Sam hadn't been okay in a long time. Wandering around with the Devil's banter echoing in your mind is not supposed to make you okay in any way.

But still, somewhere deep inside of himself, Bobby felt terrible for Dean. He could only start to grasp just how much pain the boy was in and it truly broke his heart because he cared about Sam just as much as Dean did. Maybe not in the same way, probably not with the same kind of love either. But he cared. He loved those boys like his own sons. It did kill him to see them hurt so much. When would they ever get a chance? When would they finally get a freaking break?

Bobby snapped out of his thoughts when a man in a doctor's attire walked into the room. He frowned when he noticed that there was someone he hadn't been introduced to sitting next to his patient, especially after seeing said patient's brother run out of the place like he'd seen a ghost or something.

"Hello, I am Doctor Hamilton, Mr. Deyoung's attending physician. Allow me to ask you to know who I am speaking to" he started, pulling out his hand for Bobby to shake.

The hunter glared at him for a few seconds before taking the hand reluctantly.

"Bobby Singer, I'm the kid's uncle" he lied. It was almost true though. He'd taken care of the boys, sometimes in the way a father would have.

The doctor nodded and finally offered a smile. If his patient was surrounded by significant people, maybe he would come to. Doctor Hamilton believed in those kinds of stories. He'd seen patients overcome life threatening conditions just because they were surrounded and loved. Sam and Dean had attracted his attention and something made him want to do something more for them. He couldn't say what, he couldn't say why but he felt like he needed to help them.

Now he was just relieved to see that there was one more family member he could rely on.

"I've just crossed Sam's brother in the corridor. He ran past me, actually. Is there anything I should know?" Hamilton finally asked

Bobby sighed and bowed his head, his eyes searching for an escape through the cracks between the tiles.

"He's a little overwhelmed. He needed some space" Bobby admitted softly. He wasn't going to say that he was actually freaked out because Dean never lost his cool the way he did. The kid was way beyond his breaking point and Bobby was even amazed he'd managed to keep himself together for so long considering the storm that was raging inside.

Hamilton nodded. In a way he wasn't surprised and just as Bobby had seconds before, he let the thought cross his mind that he was amazed at how long Dean had kept it together considering the situation. It wasn't unusual for family members to be overwhelmed when loved ones where in such conditions. That kind of bad news was hard to take for just anybody.

"Well, we'll be happy to have him back as soon as he feels up to it" Hamilton finally said.

Bobby didn't look up but he felt the same way. He only wished he hadn't gone as far as to push Dean away for good. But Dean wouldn't do that, would he? He would come back eventually, worried sick about his little brother's safety.

"I guess this makes you responsible for Sam in his brother's absence" the Doctor continued.

That had Bobby's head snap up in the man's direction. As if sensing the questions coming, the physician started to explain.

"Mr. Deyoung is in no condition to take decisions regarding his own health but we still need consent forms signed to keep up the medical care" he announced.

Bobby's mouth fell in an o-shaped lingering exhale. He finally managed to stutter an _okay._ That was Dean's job, really. But since the boy wasn't there to do it, Bobby would have to take over and to be careful. That made him feel uneasy more than anything. He felt like he was butting into something and taking a place that wasn't his to take.

The physician didn't seem to notice the inner turmoil that his interlocutor was dealing with as he picked up his notes and started his report.

"First of all, I want to let you know that there's been an issue with the insurance company. We've tried to reach them for verification but we've gotten nothing so far. I'm not saying this to alarm you or anything, maybe it's just taking more time than it should. I still wanted to let you know about it though" Hamilton informed Bobby.

The hunter's eyes widened and he tried to control his breathing. He didn't want his panic to be obvious but that was always a major concern when they decided to check themselves in the hospital. Dean had used fake insurances to get Sam the medical attention he required. Of course, that worked for them whenever they needed a quick fix up because they could vanish before the insurances sent suspicious warnings. But with Sam needing extended care, of course the issue would come when the hospital figured they had no money to pay for the treatments.

"My nephews don't have a lot of coverage. Dean has told you to put his brother's care on their insurances?! Damn kid, he should have called me! He always does more than he can handle. Leave it to me to fix things up. I know Sam needs more than they can handle with their insurances. Please, put him on my insurances" Bobby rambled. Lying made him nervous and he tried to swallow but his mouth was dry. He really just wanted them to stop investigating on the boys before they found out about the fraud. They had enough trouble ahead without adding a fraud investigation on top of everything else.

The Doctor nodded. "Well okay, I'll bring you the forms" he informed.

It was Bobby's turn to nod and he thanked the man.

After a few seconds of silence, Bobby took a deep breath and started the conversation that he was dreading so much.

"What's wrong with my nephew? Dean hasn't told me much…" he admitted.

The Doctor sighed. He found it hard to not be able to provide any good news so far.

"Sam is suffering from a severe diffuse head injury. His brother told us that he's had a first traumatic brain injury a few weeks ago. Now we believe that the latest impact triggered a secondary brain injury. Basically, Sam's brain was already weak from the previous concussion so this new one affected him in serious ways. His brain has started to swell. This swelling is affecting the amount of oxygen and blood that your nephew's brain can process. His intracranial pressure has also risen to dangerous levels. If it doesn't go down quickly, Sam's chances are reduced to none" the physician admitted sadly.

Bobby finally let out a long exhale of breath and only then did he realize he'd been holding it. This was so bad, so much worse than anything he could have imagined. The boys had been hurt before but never like this. Sure, they'd defied the laws of life and death a few times but they'd actually died before coming back. Sam wasn't dead. Maybe that's what made it so wrong. He was still alive, trapped somewhere inside of himself.

"There are two things I want to discuss with you and that revolve around the upcoming treatment I want to try in order to help Sam" Hamilton continued.

Bobby stared at Sam's pale face and at his chest that rose and fell in time with the mechanical respirator. He slowly turned back to the doctor and nodded to inform him that he was ready to hear it.

"First of all, I want to start feeding Sam. His body needs all the strength it can get to fight this. That's why I want to put your nephew on enteral feeding as soon as we can, if you'll allow us of course" the physician stated.

Bobby had no idea what that meant but he had a responsibility there. He needed to take care of Sam while Dean was gone. To do that, he had to think like Dean. And Dean would probably do anything to save his brother.

"I don't know what that means but if it's going to save him then do it" Bobby spoke his thoughts out loud.

"I want to use a nasojejunal tube. Technically speaking, it's a tube that we insert through the nose and down into the jejunum that will allow us to deliver nutrients directly into it. It's safer against aspiration and I'm not sure Sam's stomach will be able to tolerate the feeding so we'll have to deliver the nutrients directly into his small intestine" the Doctor explained.

Bobby cringed. He looked at Sam once again and unconsciously started to count the numerous tubes that were already sticking out of him. He wasn't sure if he would stand to see one more even though he knew it was for the best.

"Whatever you need to do" he whispered, his eyes still fixated on Sam's face.

The Doctor nodded. He then picked up the chart left by the nurses and starting checking his patient's vital signs.

"Second and last point" he started. Bobby turned to him so quickly it made his head spin. Wasn't it enough already?

"Sam's intracranial pressure is still going down too slowly. We really need to get it down as soon as we can. I've already spoken to the other Mr. Deyoung about it but I'm starting to really consider the option. We could try induced hypothermia to get Sam's pressure down. We'd have to cool his body temperature which would settle his blood pressure and help decrease the swelling. It would also reduce the risk of brain tissues dying from lack of oxygen" the Doctor continued.

Bobby nodded. Something in the Doctor's face told him that there was a _but_ coming.

"There's only one condition that has to be met before we can do that though" he confessed.

Bobby let out a loud breath. "What?" he pushed, hoping the man would just go straight to the point.

"Sam's intracranial pressure has to be below 40 mmHg" he announced.

Bobby frowned. He had no idea what that meant but it must be important.

"How much is it?" he asked impatiently.

"40.4 mmHg" Hamilton stated.

Bobby nodded.

"So when it gets low enough, you'll cool him down and that should help him?" Bobby asked.

"Hopefully, yes" the physician replied.

"Ok. If his brother comes by, I'll get his agreement but if I don't see him until then, you have my consent" Bobby finally said.

The other man nodded. "Alright then. I'll get everything settled for the enteral feeding and I'll keep you updated for the therapeutic hypothermia" he replied.

Bobby nodded absent mindedly. Once again, his entire focus was on Sam.

_I hope it's going to work_.

**SPN **

Dean was sitting in a bar. He'd driven for a while but flashes of his hurting brother almost made him lose the road on more than one occasion. He decided to stop and that's where he ended up. It's as if there'd been a magnet pulling him over to where the bar was. He always found his way when he needed a drink.

On his way over to the bar, he had to stop for gas because he realized he was rolling on an almost empty tank. The cashier gave him a funny look when Dean handed over his fake credit card under the name of Michael McGillicutty. He gave the cashier his _don't mess with me_ look and the man behind the counter just shrugged and handed him his receipt.

That had been a few hours ago and now Dean was sipping his whisky mournfully. He hated the fact that he was alone and he hated the fact that it was due to the fact that he ran out on his brother. But what Bobby said was true. He was stupid enough to hurt his brother and now Sam was in a bad shape.

He wished he could take it all back. He'd rather have Sam space out and complain about Lucifer than no Sam at all. He'd go back in a heartbeat if only he could.

Usually he would have gotten wasted and even bothered to check for a pool challenge.

But tonight his heart wasn't into it and there was nothing he could do to even muster the energy to get drunk. He felt bad enough already. He didn't even turn to take a peek at the hot girls. None of it mattered.

He was lost in his alcohol induced spinning thoughts when he felt something warm slip next to him. He looked up to see a rather good looking lady. Usually, he would have given her his perkiest smile and started flirting with her but he didn't. He just stared with dull green orbs.

"You look so sad" she noticed with a soft but warm voice.

"I've had a few shitty days" Dean admitted. It wasn't really false but coming from him it was the understatement of the year. He'd just have the worst days of his life.

"What happened? You look like someone died" she stated.

Dean looked down at his empty glass, unable to hold her gaze anymore. His breath came out hitched and painful.

The girl's features softened into one of sympathy.

"What happened? Do you want to talk about it?" she asked calmly.

Dean shrugged. He still couldn't look at her or she would see the pain in his watering eyes.

"I'm okay. Don't worry about me" he finally let out sternly.

She didn't seem fazed by his outburst at all. She simply shrugged.

"I wouldn't say that. You're a mess. Trust me, I know the look. I've lost someone too, you know" she admitted.

That's when Dean finally turned to look at her but his eyes didn't hold sympathy like hers did. They held pain and anger.

"I didn't lose anybody, okay?! He's not gone yet, there's still a chance…" he slipped, cursing himself for the whisky that suddenly made him lose his inhibitions.

"I'm sure he'll pull through" she assured, entering his game so she might get him to say more. Dean didn't know if it was the alcohol, the fatigue or the fact that the girl was hot but it worked.

"But he's hurt. I hurt him. I should be the one that's dying, not him" he mumbled, shaking his head in disbelief. Why did bad things always happen to his brother? He would go through the worst pains if it meant that his Sammy didn't have to hurt anymore.

"It's not your fault and I'm sure he knows it too" she soothed.

Dean shrugged. He seemed at a loss of words and the girl next to him waved for the barman to pour Dean another shot of whisky. The Winchester didn't think before he gulped down the liquor. The taste of the alcohol burned his esophagus. He dropped the glass down on the counter as he felt the warmth spread across his chest.

"Do you want to go outside?" she asked expectantly. He looked up into her warm chocolate eyes and finally nodded. He didn't know why but he just followed.

The cold air slapped his face. It felt painful but relieving at the same time. The girl he didn't know the name to was ahead of him. He didn't see the smirk on her face at that moment.

"Don't worry Dean, your brother will be fine" she said, licking her lips in appetite.

"I don't…" Dean started when it whipped him hard across the face and he frowned deeply.

"How do you know…" he started, suddenly realizing that he'd never introduced himself to her and he didn't remember telling her that it was his brother whom was hurt.

"You Winchesters are famous where I come from" she snarled, turning to face him. Dean could see the tips of fangs behind her soft lips.

"Who the hell are you and how did you find me?" he snapped.

She burst out laughing and her mouth suddenly ripped open revealing dangerously sharp teeth.

Dean's blood froze in his veins. He'd seen this before. Right after Bobby's house burned and right before that SOB had broken his brother's head with that crowbar… _Leviathans_.

Her face came back to normal and she was laughing hysterically.

"We've got a tracking system on you guys! Ever since you met Edgar, he's been promising to annihilate you" she explained.

Dean felt his whole body shiver. With everything that had happened to Sam, he had forgotten about the Leviathans following them. And now that girl was saying that the guy he was supposed to have crushed to death with a car was very much alive and looking for them. Out of sheer panic, Dean took his gun out of his belt and fired a round of bullets in her chest. She laughed as the metal pellets seem to leak out of her, leaving no trace of injury.

"Damn it!" Dean cursed as he started running to his car.

She ran after him and grabbed him in no time, pulling him up by the hems of his coat. She managed to throw him into the air and Dean landed with a loud thud. The air escaped his lungs from the impact and for a few seconds, he couldn't breathe in. Stars filled his vision.

The Leviathan was by his side in no time. Before Dean could think, he kicked her midsection with his knee, which bought him enough time to roll from under her. He needed something that would hurt her. He ran to the Impala with the Bitch following him closely. She slammed her fist into the back of his head and Dean fell face-first before he even reached his car.

He stopped his fall with his hands, which earned him a decoration of embedded rocks into his palms. He didn't have time to wince from the pain though. He slipped to the side before she hit him again. She fell to her knees and he enjoyed the opening to kick her in the head. It snapped to the side but came right back into place.

Dean cursed and ran faster to the trunk of the Impala. He shoved the key inside the lock and popped the trunk open. She was by his side within seconds when she noticed the machete he'd just grabbed from the arsenal in the trunk.

"Maybe you'll just die like a vampire" he tried.

She smirked. "We can't die" she chimed.

Dean felt despair grow inside of him but he didn't show it.

"You don't know me. I'm stubborn" he announced.

She started laughing again.

"You can't do anything against me. Why waste both our time? When you could be saving Sammy…" she trailed off.

Cold sweat ran down his back and made him shiver.

"Leave my brother out of this" he ordered, his voice reaching a new level of anger.

"Sorry, no can do… the war is already on" she replied unabashedly, her smile growing wider.

"Then you won't be here to see who wins, you Bitch!" Dean hollered. With that, he leapt into the air and slashed her neck with his machete. Her head fell off and rolled on the cold pavement. The shadow of her evil smile was still printed against her face.

Dean started hyperventilating. The Leviathans had a tracking system. They'd found him in no time. It could only mean one thing. They knew where Sam was and they were probably there already.

"Sam…" he breathed.

"Bobby…" he added.

_Oh God._

**SPN **

Bobby was startled when a nurse walked into the room. It was Karen. He'd seen her a couple of times already and he didn't like her so much. She was mostly rude. Bobby had been so shocked when he had to face Sam with his new trophy; an umpteenth tube sticking out of him, that it almost made him sick.

Karen had walked in as if Sam was just a patient and not a human under all those tubes and started checking them, making sure they weren't obstructed or anything. But the way she did it was unnerving Bobby. She was so rough she could have hurt him if he weren't unconscious. He cringed as she once more grabbed him and prodded him with no gentle fingers.

"I'm sorry" he started. She looked up at him with annoyance written all over her face.

"I know I'm not a doctor or anything but would you be careful with him? He's hurt enough already" Bobby pointed out.

She held a look of utter shock but then her face turned into one of pure malevolent joy. She glided over to the door and closed it. She shut the blinds off as well.

Bobby frowned and looked at her questioningly.

"What are you…" he started to ask but he never got to finish his sentence. Karen grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him across the room. Bobby was disoriented for a few seconds as darkness started to envelop him. The last thing he saw was the long and sharp fangs instead of the nurse's head and then everything went black.

**SPN**

**And there goes the evil cliffhanger. I'm actually angry with myself for that one because it's so evil! Hahaha! But thank you guys so much for the support I've received once more! You are the best! I'm sorry I couldn't update sooner too. I wanted to but those damn finals have kept me busy. I can't wait for the holidays so that I'll have plenty of time to write.**

**I hope you've liked the chapter and will stay tuned for more. I love to hear from you as well so don't forget to leave feedback, please. It's always really appreciated. Well, until next time, take care of yourselves!**


	6. Cold as Ice

Pain. That's the first thing his sluggish brain processed. There was pain at the back of his head. His left wrist was throbbing in time with his heartbeat too. His breathing was rapid.

A low groan escaped his lips when he moved just slightly. He wished he could go down under but then memories came back to him. His eyes snapped open in realization. They were in danger. They'd been attacked. _Balls_ he thought as he scanned the room.

He must have been out just for a few seconds because the Leviathan had turned her back on him but she didn't seem to have hurt Sam just yet.

Bobby saw an opening where the girl wasn't looking. He got up as silently as he could and grabbed a plastic cannula that wasn't in use at the moment. He jumped behind the Leviathan and wrapped the plastic tubing around her neck.

The Leviathan reacted and started fighting back and tried to free itself.

"Who are you and how did you find us?" Bobby asked breathlessly because the struggle was taking a lot out of him. He pulled the tubing tighter.

"I met a cool guy named Josh Anderson… you're not so lucky that he was working for your insurance company. He was saddened to hear what happened to Sam Winchester and decided to deliver his sympathies in person" the Leviathan spat out on a mocking tone.

Then, it grabbed Bobby's throbbing wrist and squeezed it violently. Bobby had to cry out in pain at the added pressure on his already swelling wrist. The cannula slipped out of his weakening fingers, allowing the Leviathan to break free from his grasp.

It turned the nurse's face to meet Bobby's eyes and smiled. "Then Josh found this amazing nurse who happened to work on Sam… you know the rest" it explained with a victorious grin. The Leviathan stepped forward and Bobby put his fists up in defense. He wasn't fast enough to stop the blow that came to the side of his head as he flew sideways and crashed on the cold linoleum. A grunt escaped his lips as he landed on his painful wrist that he had put out to block his fall.

The Leviathan was seething at its wining strike. "I honestly don't know why Edgar wants you put down so badly… you guys really aren't that much of a challenge!" he admitted, bending down to Bobby's level. It started to reach towards the panting hunter when Bobby suddenly sprung into action.

At the very last second, the hunter pulled a knife out of his boot and pushed himself towards the monster. The weapon embedded itself inside the girl's stomach and Bobby could feel the hilt of the knife being the only part sticking out from outside the monster's body. He knew it wouldn't kill the thing but he hoped to at least have an opening that would allow him to run.

Black goo leaked from the wound and on his fingers. He looked up to the girl's face only to see her smiling.

"That tickles" she spat, pushing Bobby hard enough to send him flying back towards the wall. Bobby's back connected with it and all air escaped his lungs. He was too old for this and he just wished Dean hadn't left.

He looked back at the girl who was pulling the knife out of her body with a grimace full of mockery and pride. She let the weapon fall to the ground, right next to the hunter's boot. Bobby looked down at it and then back up towards the girl. He was panting. His brain ran miles and miles to figure out a plan but he knew he didn't have time. He had to move.

"I'm really disappointed" the girl pouted before throwing herself forward.

Bobby ducked to the side and slid on the floor to grab his knife back. He slashed blindly at his sides to prevent the girl from getting closer. Suddenly, he stumbled into a chair. It was meant to be Dean's chair when the boy watched over his brother. Bobby didn't have time to think. He grabbed the chair and tossed it with all his strength.

The monster received the flying furniture and fell under its weight. Bobby ran towards her and plunged his knife into her throat. He then pressed the chair down on her so she couldn't move. The Leviathan laughed hysterically as black goo oozed from her neck and rushed into her throat. She choked on the liquid as it ran past her lips.

"You still won't kill me, old man!" she announced fiercely. Bobby's frown deepened and he was clenching his teeth in anger. He wouldn't stop trying until he destroyed that monster that was hurting his family.

"No but you're gonna wish you were dead" he raged, pressing the chair harder. His knuckles were turning white. The Leviathan started to struggle and managed to push Bobby off.

The hunter didn't have time to think. He had to react. There was a spare pole at the corner of the room. It was meant to hold the fluids that those doctors were pumping into Sam's body. It wasn't used at the moment and Bobby didn't lose any second.

He darted for the metallic pole and swung it hard enough to pierce the monster's body. One hit. Through and through. The pole was sticking out of her back and more goo was pouring out. It was a horrific spectacle that Bobby would have enjoyed in any other circumstances than Sam's hospital room.

The monster's eyes were wide in surprise. It hadn't been expecting to put up with such a fight. Bobby remained stoic even though he too wondered where that sudden strength came from. His fists and jaw were clenched. Nobody messed with him or his kids. Ever.

"That's what you get for getting near my boys" Bobby growled on a serious revengeful tone.

The monster tried to laugh as it came out choked from the amount of black sludge leaking out of her. "You think this is over? You think you won? This is just the beginning!" the girl seethed with glee. She had that maniac look into her eyes.

"But it's the end for you" came a third voice.

Bobby spun around so quickly that he would've fallen if he didn't catch his balance as quickly as he did. Dean was standing next to the door. Bobby saw something shine to the kid's side and he suddenly knew what was coming.

Dean didn't wait for the look of fear that filled the monster's glassy eyes. He slashed so quickly that Bobby could almost feel the gush of wind coming from the movement. Within seconds, the girl's head was rolling on the floor. The rest of the body soon followed with a thud.

Dean stared at the scene, panting. He had run as fast as he could and apparently, he had arrived just in the right time. After figuring out that his brother and uncle were in trouble, he had to do something and fast.

Dean finally turned to Bobby. The older hunter was clutching his left hand and still panted.

"You okay?" Dean asked, his own breath hitched. Bobby nodded but he was still too busy catching his breath to form an answer. Dean nodded back to him.

"Good. You did good" he noted, looking around the room at the tell tale clues of the fight that had taken place before his arrival.

"Hey what? Ya think I'm impotent or somethin'?" Bobby snarled. He might be old but he wasn't alive out of luck. Dean grinned sadly.

"No you've saved our asses more times than I could count. Thanks Bobby!" Dean recognized. He didn't know what he would've done if his father figure hadn't been there to save the situation.

The oldest nodded, bowing his head to look at the tiles.

"About what I said to you…" Bobby spoke quietly. He was trying to apologize for being so harsh but the emotions caught in his throat. Dean nodded.

"I get it. You were right. I deserved it" Dean admitted sadly. He'd been hurt by the things that Bobby had said but he knew that they were true. He had screwed up and nothing could take back what he had done to his brother.

Bobby's eyes blurred with emotion. He sighed sadly.

"No you didn't. I overreacted and let my anger out on you. You didn't need this. You were hurting enough and you didn't need my judgment on top of that" Bobby apologized. Dean shook his head.

"But you were right. Sam's hurt and it's my fault" Dean recalled, his voice trembling.

Bobby's fists clenched. He was tired of hearing Dean beat himself up.

"Then it's about time you stop whining about it and start doing something to make him better!" he snapped. Dean sensed the anger in Bobby's tone but he knew Bobby was only angry at seeing him so self-bashing. And the man was right. Pitying himself would not make Sam better.

Dean didn't have a response but he didn't need to produce one. They both knew that the point had settled where it needed to. Bobby nodded and a smile crept up his lips. He then looked around the room and took in the mess that he'd made. He sighed.

"Kid, you'll have to stay here and take care of your brother. I have a mess to clean up" he announced, motioning to the corpse on the floor.

"You know Edgar didn't die. He's the one calling the shots" Dean informed the other hunter. Bobby looked disgusted and out of options. They were definitely up against something much bigger than they'd ever faced.

"It probably means that this one is most likely not dead… she said they can't die. I'll see what information I can get out of her" Bobby started. Dean frowned and grabbed Bobby's arm tightly to stop his movement.

"What? On your own? Bobby, you've seen what they can do! I'm not letting you deal with her alone!" he warned angrily. It was Bobby's turn to clench his teeth.

"Damn it Dean! I was a hunter when you were still wearing diapers! We have to do something! Now I can help! I'm not helpless! And you, you have to stay with Sam and watch out for him. He needs you more than I do. You're gonna have to trust me" Bobby growled. He was growing impatient.

Dean knew the other hunter was right. He finally nodded. Bobby gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"Now I just gotta figure out how to get a body out of here without looking suspicious" Bobby realized. Dean nodded and a smile tugged at his lips.

"I might have an idea" he announced and Bobby already knew that he was going to hate that idea.

A while later, he was dressed in a pale gown with an overlapping apron and he was pushing a cart filled with dirty laundry. That was Dean's genius idea. Bobby had to pretend to be the maid. That was the only way he could wander around with something big enough to hide a body. He hated it but it worked. He managed to roll the cart down to his pick up and loaded the body into it.

On the way, an idea popped into his mind. Dean had been right on one thing. He couldn't do this alone. He needed help. That's when he decided to call Jody Mills. The sheriff had been useful so far and she knew about the Leviathans so he wouldn't have to convince her.

Shutting his phone off, he smiled victoriously. Jody had agreed to meet him at Rufus' cabin. She would help him and besides, he was fond of the woman. Good company was better than anything he could have wished for.

**SPN **

Dean was back to being alone with his brother. He felt terrible for leaving in the first place. Horrible scenarios filled his mind when he thought of what could have happened to his brother if he hadn't come back in time or if Bobby hadn't been there to fight off the monster.

But something Bobby said kept nagging him. Feeling guilty wouldn't help his brother. He needed to be strong if he wanted to be there for Sam. And that's when it happened. He started seeing Sam differently. His brother wasn't a victim of his own mistakes anymore. His brother was fighting and he was waiting for someone to help him fight. So that's when Dean decided to be that person.

"I'm sorry Sam. I'm sorry I left. But I'm back now and I'm not going anywhere. I promise" Dean assured, taking back his place at his brother's side. He noted the new installment and sighed. Sam needed to start getting better.

"You keep fighting this, man. I know you can. I'll be right here waiting for you. I'll do whatever you need me to do to help. You can trust me. I've made mistakes but I won't do them again. You can trust me" Dean continued. He needed his brother to know that. And at some point he realized with clarity that Sam knew. It filled him with an indescribable joy.

The good news came quickly. Doctor Hamilton was doing his morning exam when his face lit up with hope.

"What is it?" Dean asked, almost worried.

"Your brother's ICP is now around 39. It's going down Dean and we can consider therapeutic hypothermia now" Hamilton announced happily. Dean took it as good news even though his brother was only slightly improving. He assumed he'd have to settle for the small victories.

"And how will it work?" Dean asked, considering the idea of helping Sam to get better. The Doctor looked down at his chart and then back up at Dean.

"We will insert a catheter inside Sam's femoral vein. Through that catheter, we will inject a cold solution that will quickly bring his body temperature down. After that we will only have to maintain a temperature cool enough to allow Sam's body to recuperate. We will also have to monitor him closely to keep him stable" the Doctor replied.

Dean frowned. "Does that mean he could be unstable?" he picked up. The Doctor could see that the boy was keeping up.

"It could happen. It doesn't mean it will. The most common issue we have to look out for is shivering. We will have to sedate your brother to make sure it doesn't happen or he could hurt himself" Hamilton explained.

Dean wasn't reassured but he believed that he was out of other options.

"Don't worry, Mr Deyoung. We'll be watching your brother closely" the physician assured.

Dean nodded but then his frown returned.

"But you said you'll have to insert another catheter? I'm starting to think that soon enough, Sam won't have any more left to offer" he noticed, thinking that yet another tube into his brother wouldn't make him feel better.

"I understand that those methods are invasive and I wish I could find alternative options. But this method is the safest because it gives us an accurate reading of the body temperature and modifications can be done quickly. The other non invasive methods take too much time to be effective and they're not as accurate" Hamilton admitted.

Dean nodded. There was no other choice. He finally gave his approval. It's the only way he felt like he could help his brother.

"And how long will you have to keep him cold?" Dean asked suddenly. The Doctor looked up at him. He wished he could get a better answer but only time would tell.

"As long as it takes to get his ICP down to manageable levels. I can't give you an accurate number and I wish I could… but it can take a few days or a few weeks" he replied truthfully.

Dean found himself thinking that he wished it could be days instead of weeks. He needed Sam to come back to him. But he couldn't keep blaming himself because it only made it worse. A small smile crept up his face. He reached to his brother's side.

"Hey Sammy. They're gonna cool you down. I'm sorry man but it has to be done" Dean apologized. He felt like his brother could somehow hear him because he had already gotten better overnight after his speech.

"But let's make it a case, okay? A hunt maybe… whatever motivates you… You have to beat this. And I'll be waiting for you. But don't take too long, alright?" Dean proposed. He knew Sam was a fighter and the fact that his brother was still alive testified to that.

**SPN **

Bobby made it back to the cabin and found a very alive and kicking Leviathan in his truck. He was happy he had tied the thing before leaving. He couldn't imagine what could have happened if he hadn't. Jody was already there waiting for him.

"When you said you'd meet me, I didn't know it would be so fast" Bobby teased with a grin. Jody smiled back at him.

"I couldn't wait to get a chance to beat down those monsters" she replied with a force in her eyes that he hadn't seen in her in a long time.

"Then you can help me get this one to the basement" Bobby proposed. Jody nodded. She couldn't wait indeed. And after what she had noticed in the hospital a few weeks ago, Bobby's call had just been the salvation she was looking for. It was also a chance to reunite with the older hunter she was so fond of. All in all, it was just a great occasion with great conditions.

"Where are the Winchesters?" she asked, suddenly noticing the lack of the two handsome giants.

Bobby sighed. He had expected the sheriff to ask but it didn't make it any easier.

"At the hospital. Sam's hurt…" Bobby replied simply. He knew he'd have to get into details and that's the part he dreaded because it made it all real.

"Oh my God, is he alright?" Jody asked, her eyes filling with concern. Bobby was touched to see how much she cared. That's the effect the boys had on people.

"Not really…" Bobby mumbled as he avoided her gaze and started the pull the struggling girl out of the car.

"Bobby, what is it that you're not telling me?" she asked sternly. She wanted answers. Bobby sighed.

"I'll explain later. Dean's taking care of it, don't worry" the oldest finally stated. Jody could see that pushing wouldn't give her anything so she stopped fighting and gave the other hunter a hand instead. They dragged the monster down to the basement where they tied her to a chair. Bobby finally removed the gag from her mouth.

"I see you're not dead" he pointed out.

The Leviathan Karen smiled mischievously. "Told you you couldn't kill me" she spat victoriously.

Bobby grunted. "Like I said, you might not die but you might wish you would" he spat back. Jody watched them and then looked at Bobby questioningly.

"So we can't kill them?" she asked.

"So far we haven't found how… but here we are and there she is" he said, turning his head to motion to the tied Leviathan. Jody understood where he was going and smiled.

"I'll leave you two then" she announced and went upstairs. "This place needs cleaning anyway" she added.

Bobby went around the basement and picked up everything he could to test on the girl with. He found salt, nails, gas and many more things that he started to have ideas how he could have fun with.

The fun could only begin.

He turned to the girl with a determined look in his eyes.

"Let's see what it takes to hurt you" he warned.

The girl smiled. "I could tell you right away and we wouldn't be wasting both our time" she tried.

Bobby shook his head.

"I'm not looking for words. I want physical proof. I'll only believe what I see" he retorted proudly.

He didn't miss the look of horror that crossed her eyes.

"Well… shall we begin?"

**TBC**

**SPN**

**That's it for now! Sorry for the delay! I wanted to get something up for you guys because of course I haven't forgotten about you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter even though it's a little short! There's definitely more to come!**

**Thank you guys for your support! You've all been amazing and I truly appreciate the feedback! Don't forget to keep it up, I really love to hear what you have to say!**

**I hope you all had amazing holidays and I wish you a happy new year!**

**Stay tuned as Bobby continues to get info out of his prisoner and Sam keeps fighting with Dean by his side. I had to turn off the Dean guilt in this chapter. I want him to turn that bad energy into something proactive in the next chapters. So yeah stay tuned and thank you for reading!**


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